When Nicola got home that afternoon, he was wasted. Trip took too long, buses were overcrowded, there was no room to stand upright let alone sit, and the better part of the ride he spent balancing on one leg barely holding his grip on the handles, while the swarm of the smelling human bodies pushed him around. And the fact that he lived on the far outskirt of the city didn’t help much. His neighborhood was in fact a series of brutal looking skyscrapers, just as overcrowded as buses were.

He kicked off his shoes, and took off his shirt, but for the time being he felt to tired to deal with his pants, and just slouched in front of the old TV set, too tired even to turn it on. There was nothing worth looking on it anyway. Not until much later. He was hungry but the leftovers in his fridge were not as inviting enough to make him get up and walk all the way there.

Bell on his Door rung hysterically. Whoever was pushing it wasn’t doing it in polite way. Then that someone knocked on a door just as rudely, only by the sound of it, he didn’t use his hand. It sounded more like a club. A thought crossed his mind: what have I done wrong this time? There was no way out. They must have seen him when he got back. Should have left him at least enough time to eat.

“Coming! Coming! Don’t break the fucking door, or you’ll pay for them.”

He was shuffling to the doors, trying to hear the conversation from the other side. Two men at least. Through the peephole he saw men in uniform of the Communal Police. That was a good news in fact. Whatever he did it must be some minor offense. He would have been in real trouble if they came in plain clothes in a dead of the night. Unlocking doors, Nicola put a fake smile on his face.

“Hello, boys. Is it a fire drill?”

The smaller one pointed his finger at him threateningly.

“You know very well why are we here.”

Big man standing behind him acted as a good cap today. He pulled his partner gently by the shoulder, stepping in.

“Easy Stan. Don’t bark if you don’t mean to bite.”

Then he turned to the Nicola with the matching fake smile.

“This is just a friendly visit. You see, we have been informed that you have raised a France flag under your window this morning.”

“At 7:00 AM precisely.”

“Stan, let me do the talking. Any particular reason?”

“What flag? I don’t have any flag.”

“Yeah, we know. We checked and it could be just a fair mistake. You have shirts hanging on a line, but the colors are so unhappily sorted, that from the distance it looks like a France flag.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Do you have T-shirts outside?”

“Yes.”

“What colors?”

“One red, one white and one blue.”

“Yes. Well, from outside it looks like blue, white and red stripes of the flag.”

He was gesturing with his hands, putting a picture of tricolor flag.

” Now you can guess that some of your fellow citizen could find this offending.”

Nicola knew just the man that was nosy enough and mean enough to make a case from this.

“You mean that bastard from the basement. An ex policeman that is spying everyone in this block and ratting on them.”

The little man jumped, as if the man he talked about was his relative. Maybe he was.

“Listen you piece…”

“Stan I have told you, shut the fuck up.”

Small man looked him pleadingly. He was living for such moments when he would be allowed to display his power. The big man stared him down, before turning to the Nicola again.

“There is no need to use such words when you talk about your fellow citizen.”

“Yeah, all right. But he was the one that saw it as a flag, wasn’t he?”

“That is not important. Have you put it out as a flag?”

“No. I just didn’t see anything wrong about it. I’m sorry. But there is no law against washing and drying clothes?”

“No of course.”

“And with those heats, and the smelling crowd in the public transportation, I’m doing it often.”

“That’s admirable. Only you should pay attention to the details. People are easily offended these days. You know with situation in the world and all.”

“All right. I have a green T-shirt waiting for her turn. If one of the shirts outside is dry, I could swap it. Would it be all right?”

“Yes.”

Nicola went into the bathroom, and returned with green T-shirt. He reached through the window and took the blue shirt in, feeling ends and nodding satisfied. It was dry. But when he took a green T-shirt again, he stopped in the middle of the move and looked the policeman again.

“We have a problem here.”

“What kind of problem?”

“Well if I put this T-shirt now, it will look like Italian flag.”

“Listen you bastard, don’t you get smart with us.”

“Stan, please. I’m handling this.”

The big man towered the Nicola this time, smile all gone.

“You take all the shirts down. Dry them one at the time. You seems to be too smart for your own good. I will put this in your record. If something like this happens ever again, someone else will come to talk to you. Do you understand!?!?”

Last words were actually shouted, and he felt a spittle, shower on his face, that made him want to wipe it with his freshly dried shirt.

“Yeah, all right. Whatever.”

Two of them walked out of his apartment with the air of self satisfaction. Nicola closed the door carefully behind them, bolted them twice and walked into his living room.

When he sat in his armchair a smile crossed his face. Almost inaudibly he said:

“Vive la France! You motherfuckers.”