Esenin was sitting on the sofa, his free arm at his sides, with the other leaning on the arm of the sofa as he settled against the mattresses, it was nighttime as people could no longer stay awake during the day because of the unbearable heat of the sun and this same sun infecting people so that they would become visitors. The residents in the house did not talk to him much, although he didn't care, he knew that everyone was suffering their own hell, after all, it felt like being in hell. He had seen the Homeowner prowling around the house, sometimes pointing the shotgun he always carried at other visitors in the house, or asking him questions about his eyes, ears, teeth, armpits, etc. to 'verify that he was not an intruder' in his words, although Esenin thought it was absurd.