-66-
Who Cares?
"No, believe me. They are not going to waste time on finding someone's camcorder. They got lots of other stuff to take care of. Before they take any steps, the thief will sell it to a pawnshop for fifty-sixty dollars, and they will sell it to someone for hundred and fifty
dollars. And I will never see my camera again!"
And yet, Harut decided to call the police department, just in case5. A few minutes later an officer came by. Harut was almost right: he just questioned the guys, looked at the door, filled out the questionnaire and left.
"Hey, he didn't even take fingerprints to trace the robber,"
noticed Tamara.
Harut knew intuitively that he would never see the camera again.
That same morning…
"Wake up! Wake up, Ashot!" screamed Gurgen, pushing sleeping Ashot, trying to wake him up.
"Fuck off, dude! Lemme sleep," replied Ashot half awake half asleep.
"Give me the lock keys from your bicycle," said Gurgen.
"It's not my bicycle, asshole. I borrowed it from Arman yesterday, and I gotta give it back to him in half an hour. He's coming to pick it up!" explained Ashot.
"Ok. I'll call him and ask if I can borrow it, too," said Gurgen and picking up the phone dialed some numbers. "Hello? Arman, is that you buddy?
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