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victory. He did it. He wasn’t what was going to happen to him just mere moments

ago. He could’ve died for all he know. Now he will be able to go underground in
Sweden. And since they don’t have any cases on him, and there’s no deportation

order on him, he should be safe.

“Cheers,” He mumbles to a passer-by that confused looks his way. Almost
inaudibly he greets his own reflection after taking more sips from the bottle.

Helsingør is getting smaller behind as the sail towards Helsingborg.

He picks up his phone, presses on the name Tim. A old cellmate of his, who now
lives in Helsingborg. Rumour has it, that doesn’t sell drugs anymore. Could it be

true?
“Hey Tim! It’s Janokovic. How’s it going? ”

“Haha, goddamnit. Is it you Jano? Balkan Jano?”

“Yes, it’s me. Tim, I'm on the ferry now on my way to Helsingborg. We'll
port in 20 minutes, mate.”

"Well, good for you, mate,” says Tim with a bit of snideness.

“Look Timmy, I haven’t called just to talk. I’m in need of a place to stay.
You know, an anonymous place. Nobody can know.”

“Interesting…” replies Tim, knowing very well what Janokovic is asking
for.

“Well… Can you help me?” says Jano.

“It’s a bit late to get hold of some of the boys now, Jano. Why did you call
me earlier?”

“Listen, it's urgent.” Says Janokovic clearly nervous.

"Do you have anything for me? Something exciting.”
"No, unfortunately not. I have money though.”

“Money. Money’s good,” says Tim, now a bit more interested.

“I promise to have something more exciting with me next time. I just need
the smoke to fade.”

“It’s fine, Jano. I’ll make it so you can sleep at my auto workshop tonight. I

share it four others, where we fix cars, black. It's cold as fuck, but that's the only
thing I can do. Take it or leave it.”

“Don’t worry, Tim. I just have to sleep,”