What is to be done?

I cover the corridor without greeting the colleagues. La' in bottom the flare of the emergency escape says me that much amassed people do not have esserci difronte to the machine of the caffe'. Carried out to right and I do not see nobody. Last obstacle, the Ambient office, is inoffensive. I slip myself into the door to its right and with a leap I open the door of the cabinet. Other dangers do not exist absolutely that minino mine privancy: e' only and unisex.

The back of the gestibile jacket not e' on the cup. They are accustomed to me to toglierla and agganciarla to the inner key of the lock of the door. I assume the customary position and I make a last control and... but...
I feel one strange noise. It comes from my right... from the Ambient Office... but it is of paper!
Cazzo I feel the noise of the sheets of the designs. And draft of large stroppiccio... them is not hardly consulting!
That you want that says to you. Sapete also you that in those conditions, the slancio puo' to carry to a point of no return... and I do not fear of averlo exceeded. I must find a solution then... and diamine, come' that all the other times I had not found problems? By now I was convinced that that one was a good place, a sure place...

Postrei to calibrate the release of the sphincter... but the experience me standard that when e' full of air control is not existed that can prevent the emission of noises... and then in the business cabinets, of developed inner volume mostly in height produces an effect of resonance similar to that one of organ canes, and the piu' flebile scoreggia it is transformed in the urlo concitato of a bottom tuba...
To sing, to laugh, coughing are of all the ineffective ones if not to the open air or in means to other people. And then? That to make?

The last book of Problem Solving that I have read suggerce to try in that frangente the difference to me from the other requests of analogous circumstances. I watch myself round. Tapestries or stretch ve ne never have not been... e' be dismantled the anechoic chamber that not there e' never be... But what lacks here! The noise of the plant!
Finestrella e' in fact the sluice. I open. The regular heartbeat of the mallets flows back to the inside of my cabin; the regular buzz of the motors and the groups aereotermo returns to fargli from counterpoint... That peace!