It seems that this is not the life Heinz wanted when he dreamed of socialism. then he was cheerful and full of ideas, but enough time had passed for him to settle in One State, and now he did not see everything so sweet. The time tables determined his life almost minute by minute: when to get up, when to eat, when to leave work. The benefactor wanted to control everything, so people could only hide in the bathroom, because the rest of every house was glass. Of course, you could close the curtains with someone for an hour, but you needed a ticket for that. a meal ticket, a doctor's ticket, a ticket for "love". a life ticket.

you were his most frequent partner. for a long time he tried to find someone with whom he could close behind the curtains for two hours a day, but everyone was terribly insensitive because of the new trend for fantasy removal surgery. people, if they could still be called people, lost emotions and impressions, they almost stopped following art, because there was almost no time for it. He saw at least remnants of emotions in you, which were also gradually erasing.

Heinz opened the curtains, letting the light back into the glass house. The sky was cloudless, sterile. everything in this world was sterile, only he had been feeling dirty lately. tainted by emotions.

— you know, I felt sad yesterday. It hurt and I wanted to cry. — He spoke softly as his face, round-cheeked, with glasses and brown curls, was illuminated by the light of the blinding sun. The sun no longer pleased him. Lately, all the thoughts spinning in his head had turned into a big black cloud. He had not seen clouds for a long time, because public services always cleared the sky of any signs of bad weather. — Do you think I should go to the doctor?