Time went on. Kasimierz remained. Eyeing a woman who had come in before him, and faced with the ever-present danger of boredom, he pulled out a notepad that was comically small in his large hand. In the other appeared a pencil that, given his proportions, also appeared small. Leaning against the wall -gingerly, for fear that he might damage it- he flipped to a blank page and began a rough sketch.
"Things will not calm down, Daniel Jackson. They will, in fact, calm up."
