Friday afternoon in a book warehouse.
A few days earlier there had been empty shelves, trolleys, pallets and, above all, a great many books that had come from somewhere and needed to end up somewhere else.
Now everything was in place.
Not more or less.
Not nearly done.
Just done.
Even The Talented Mr Ripley had found his new address. As though he had never been anywhere else.
Halfway through the day, a colleague came by. He looked at the shelves. At the books. At Arie, who apparently still had not realised that a move was perfectly allowed to take a little longer.
He shook his head.
“Arie, you make us look bad.”
That was a compliment.
Probably.
Later that afternoon Arie gave him a hand with something.
The colleague looked at him.
“Have you heard the tale of the rabbit and the turtle?”
“No.”
So he told it.
About a rabbit who was very fast and a turtle who moved painfully slowly. They had a race. The rabbit was sure he would win, took it easy along the way, and eventually lost to the turtle, who simply kept going.
Arie listened.
Looked at his colleague.
Looked at the warehouse, already moved and fully arranged.
“So… you’re telling me to slow down?”
The colleague did not really need to answer.
He had summed it up a few hours earlier:
“Arie, you make us look bad.”
It was Friday.
The warehouse was ready.
Everything had its place.
The turtle had been helped.
And the rabbit?
The rabbit did not know the fable.
The rabbit was simply working.
And now it was the weekend.