Village. Mercedes dealership. There are so many Mercedes cars that it’s overwhelming. The range of models is very wide, from small (and large) convertibles to crossovers. About a hundred cars. There’s a service station and a parts warehouse. My job is on the roof. I need to replace the fan motor on the outdoor unit. How do I get up to the roof? Oh right, here’s a ladder. Well, I don’t know which talented architect made it possible to access the roof of a three-story building only with a folding ladder. And now I realize that the word “ladder” comes from “sketchy.” Because it’s really sketchy. The head of the service station is helping me with the ladder. I can’t distract the technicians. They, like me, are paid by the hour.
The roof is beautiful. The sound of a military plane. No, they won’t make me look up! I looked up. Clouds, a plane. From the roof, I can see the lawn. Cows of a beef breed are grazing on the lawn. Their coats are a creamy color. Beneath their skin, there are many bulging muscles. Bodybuilder cows. There’s no one around. I leisurely take apart the block. I change the fan. I connect it. I go downstairs. I turn on the circuit breaker. I head back up—everything works. Now I just need to put everything back together, gather my tools, and sign the work order. Which I did.