The sign on the building: “МИР”. Мир (English: World), IPA: [mʲir] –

1. The combination of all forms of matter on Earth and outer space.

2. Мир (English: Peace) – The absence of war.

The sign on the building: “ДОМ БЫТА”
Дом быта (English: Public amenities and personal services center, or House of Consumer Services), IPA: [ˈdom ˈbɨtə] –

A public building housing an integrated business that unites reception centers of various service types and manufacturers.

About no seconds later, a field stretches before me, overgrown with dense grass, and on the horizon, sinking into the haze, stands a Soviet modernist buildi — the most beautiful in my city, created using my country’s most standard design. A sign on the facade reads: “ДОМ БЫТА” (HOUSE OF CONSUMER SERVICES). Inside, the space is so vast that the entire city surrounding it fits within. Not just the city — the whole country, the whole world. The House of Consumer Services contains everything. Everything necessary for voluntary deprivation.

When perception of time shifts long enough and natural and social reference points disappear, the miscalculations extend beyond minutes — they stretch into months, into years. It’s strange how you can count to 180, thinking it measures three minutes, only to find that five have passed. Yet your inner clock holds onto the conventional 24-hour cycle, just as it holds onto the conventional framework of your world-feeling. Circadian rhythms march on relentlessly, following their own tempo, even as they drift further from real time.

The collector of rainwater once told me: “Until the parrots eat all the butterflies, all you need to remember is that people always exist only potentially (hypothetically). To believe otherwise is simply naive.” Then he clapped his hands loudly.I opened my eyes, unsure of the exact time. But I knew it must be early morning —there was a crisp coolness in the air, a softness to the light.

My world placed its hand on my shoulder. I turned around. And there it was ag —a field, overgrown with dense grass, and on the horizon, sinking into the haze, a Soviet modernist building. The most beautiful.

About no seconds later, the field parrots flew up.