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The nice girl at the reception desk smiled at us and said while straightening her purple hair.

– Oh, new guest. Do you want a room with a view of the statue of the ruler or the sea?

– He’s not on vacation. He is his guest.

Said grandfather pointing fingers up. Who does this dictator take himself for? He aims too high. I touched the piece of metal in my hand behind my sleeve. Good. I hid a small ice pick while we were driving. Maybe today will be his last day. How good life will be.

– That’s good. Elevator to the left. You know the password.

– I’ll figure it out somehow. – Said the old man.

We went to the elevator. Portraits of the dictator in various poses were everywhere. A statue describing his exploits. How he disgusts me. Three years of his reign is the worst time in my life. But then the elevator with pleasant music reached the two hundredth floor. We went along a long narrow white corridor. It was empty. White carpets, white doors. Everything is white. What’s in this guy’s head.

– Here’s your door.