The rainy season has covered Moscow, but it doesn't matter. It turns out that our sunny poet consumed too much alcohol, leading to hallucinations. When he shared his experiences with his acquaintances, they sent him to a psychiatric hospital, but he only stayed for two weeks. He escaped... To a hotel. He was in distress, unable to sleep, fearing that someone would find him or, even worse, kill him. When I looked at my gun, which I was holding in my hand just in case, I jumped when I heard the door knock, and I held my breath, afraid that they might be coming for him. But I got up, went quietly to the door, looked through the peephole, and saw... Mayakovsky? At 12 o'clock in the morning? What the hell does he want? Is it a trap? I was silent, afraid to say anything