I am in Amsterdam and I just woke up at five in the morning. I was lying in my sleeping bag thinking. I was frustrated by my inability to spread my legs in the sleeping bag and by too much heat. I was also trying to organize the construction of this story. I had one of the strongest inspirations in a long time and I was imagining this story unfold.

The story is about a young man, my age, who visited Amsterdam as a tourist with few of his friends. They were all walking in the Red Light District. He was trying to take photos of prostitutes but he still wanted to be polite and ask them if it is OK. He would show the camera and and make a sad-puppy-face and prostitutes would angrily gesticulate NO with their hands. One was particularly bitchy and showed him the middle finger.

He saw this as a challenge and decided to fight her. He went back to her and arranged sex. He came in a small room behind the glass door. While she was putting the curtains on he already took most of his clothes off. It was clear to him how to beat her. He knew exactly what to do.

As he got naked he asked her to lay on the small bad, naked as well, and he laid next to her and started talking.

“I do not want to have sex with you. I want to talk for a while. Is that OK?” She allowed it.

“I would like to tell you a dream I had last night. In this dream my father was making a big party. There were hundreds of guests: our family and lots of our friends and business partners. My father was dressed up the way he likes it: shiny blue shirt, elegant pants and shoes, and a tie. He was doing his thing – he was the host – and I was helping him by welcoming and entertaining the guests.”

“At one moment we were standing next to each other. We were talking but all I could focus on was how much shorter he became. I had a medical check few weeks ago during which I realized I got one centimeter taller, but it still seamed I was at least twenty centimeters taller than my father now. He seamed like a child with a old man’s face. I never noticed he became so shorter. I realized this must be because of his illness. He felt so small and fragile. I felt so much love for him and I knew that soon he will die. I just wanted to help him and protect him.”