Going behind the silk curtain and pulling back the fabric with his hand, the writer sees a magenta-coloured font as perfectly round as a woman's body, as if also made of porcelain. In it, covering her eyes, his muse is dreaming about something. Her delicate skin looks even whiter in contrast to the flashy bathroom, and she pretends not to notice him. Or does she really not notice him? The walls are covered with purple velvet, making the atmosphere of the secret room even more solemn and alluring at the same time. The writer approaches a rounded, sensual shell, where birds of paradise with golden tails flutter about. He is distracted for a moment, admiring their beauty.
Touching the elegant faucet, he opens the water and, leaning over the sink, rinses his face with cold water. The writer seems to shake off the obsession and notices that there is no one else in the room but him. Smiling at his obsession, he thoughtfully opens the water of the floor faucet for the bath and, adjusting the temperature, fills the font. The writer throws his dressing gown on the chair and plunges into the water. His hands rest comfortably on the gentle sides of the bathtub, his body is completely relaxed. The writer closes his eyes and the muse returns to him. He takes a dictaphone in his hand and begins to dictate a new chapter of his narrative ...