Random thoughts at 3 a.m. began to bother you not only in the dead of night. They used to happen rarely, but now they seemed to have infiltrated your brain and settled there firmly. Was it a serious problem? Not really. More like an annoying nuisance, distracting you from your work and preventing you from concentrating. Do helicopters have horns? Do airplanes have traffic jams?

You couldn’t keep these questions in your head for long, and eventually you found the perfect victim for your interrogations. A person who probably knew the answers to all these stupid questions and who couldn’t ignore.

Jamil.

His first reaction was predictable: “What?” Then came a more irritated “Are you serious?” And finally, with growing desperation in his voice, “Get the fuck away from me.” But it didn’t help him at all.

You leaned against the back of your chair, looking around and boring into the male figure sitting across from you. Jamil skillfully ignored your existence, completely focused on the book he was reading, hoping that you would leave him alone. But alas, hope is the last thing that leaves him.

“If I buy a truck online, will it be delivered in an even bigger truck?”

A random question, which seemed brilliant to you, escapes from your lips, catching him completely off guard. Jamil abruptly looks up from the book and stares at you, as if trying to understand what happened to you. He begins to wonder if your parents were careful with you as a child, did they drop you head first, or maybe they just didn’t like you. In any case, an explanation for his endless patience has already been found.

“Are you serious right now?”

His voice was no longer as calm as before.

“Don’t you have anything better to do? Go to Kalim with these questions… No, or he’ll start pestering me with this too. Tch.”

A heavy sigh escaped his chest. He was truly on the verge of despair. It seemed that you could already be canonized as saints - saints who had driven poor Jamil to a nervous breakdown.