The hotel was called BUNKER and was supposed to be the worst in the whole city. It just happened – usually it happens as if somebody planned everything in advance and extremely carefully, which is why quite large group of citizens of various countries, and in the case of some states even the overwhelming majority, has an occasion to suspect the existence of filthy, nasty conspiracies wanting and trying to suppress these citizens in the most cruel and merciless way – that all the hotels in the whole town had no vacancies due to an international railwayman congress and the only free rooms were available in the BUNKER. The idea that the congress was arranged just in this town and just on this very day due to my visit, was the last thought that could come to my mind. I didn't think so even when I heard them recommending the hotel, that it was quite decent place, clean and cosy, having only one disadvantage: no windows in the rooms. But if this disadvantage was really big, such a big disadvantage generated a huge advantage, it means low prices. This fact indicates clearly that the event just being described took place long time ago, for today, it means when this distant past is being described, this disadvantage would not be considered disadvantage at all, on the contrary – it would be considered a big advantage, it would be an attraction generating high prices, and with no doubt a night in such a hotel, really extraordinary and unique hotel, would cost a lot. The lack of windows was not the only attraction of the hotel. The name BUNKER could make me suppose to see a building hardly projecting above the ground surface, similar to a bubble – but I saw a building rather tall, though not tall enough to be considered a skyscraper, yet with no doubt towering over other buildings around it. The word “tower” would be more adequate if it dealt with the hotel's character, and not its hight only. However both tall towers of fortified castles and dumpy bunkers have slits, horizontal and vertical, enabling to bombard enemies with arrows or bullets, while the hotel had no slits at all – as if the people staying in it paid no attention whether they were being attacked or seized, or the seizing troops decided to wait patiently till the defenders would transform into dried mummies or piles of bones picked clean. This piece of information, so surprising and fascinating, given to me with a bit of uncertainty, shame and fear concerning my reaction, since it could horrify me and repel, was not entirely true. Well, the doors had windows, little windows, or very small windows. These little windows were round and a bit bigger than an eye and they were located in very robust doors, thick and powerful, that could easily survive the attack of a battering ram. These little round windows were looking on the corridor and the only thing one could see through them was a small piece of a concrete wall in a distance of two-three short steps – probably turning a head in a special way one could notice a thick cable running across the rough concrete surface (I do emphasize this once again: concrete, concrete with no plaster). Of course provided that the light was on in the corridor and the bulbs imprisoned in wire cages protecting them against crashing were shining brightly. If the light was off, then there would be impenetrable darkness on the other side of the door – the corridors had no windows, either, which can be guessed easily. And when the light in the room was switched off, the darkness was so thick my internal biological clock stopped to work immediately. Is the word “room” right? Shouldn't I have used the word “cell” or “ward”? I can't deny such was the very first association: even if this is a room, with no doubt it was previously a cell, then the cell was renovated, the walls were painted to cover filthy drawings, dirty words and day-count calendars. However this was only an association, supposition, suspicion. I could only suspect this building had been the seat of a lockup, maybe even a prison, like I could only suspect this building was specially designed in that way – not to provide unforgettable attractions for tourists, travellers and noble wanderers (as you see I haven't forgotten), but to make good profits on the lowest city lowlife. The suspicions remained suspicions, and suppositions remained suppositions. I didn't investigated what the truth was. The history of this building didn't interest me. It was really enough to experience (and survive) one night only, in spite of thorough derangement of my so precise biological clock in those days I could easily “set” myself on any time and I never was awaken late – in this hotel I woke up three hours later! something like that would never happen in any other hotel – I never investigated the origin of this ability, I suspected my strong dislike to loud ticking of an external alarm-clock, I almost felt it got synchronised with my heartbeat, made my whole body vibrate badly and I was sleeping all the time feeling fear that a sudden ringing would be also a sudden mad trembling of my heart and it would not stand such ringing, would jump out and ran away and what would I do then? so I was not sleeping, I was snoozing vigilantly not to let something like that happen; while the internal alarm clock was not ticking at all and disturbed my sleeping in no way and in spite of the worst, of all the hotels, ratio of guests who didn't wake up to guests who woke up. I didn't ask anybody – I didn't try to chase in dark corridors those who seemed to move in them with the skilfulness of a mole, which I know nothing about, although it would be extremely interesting experience, indeed; maybe I would begin to moan and shout like them and it would turned out I was not right suspecting them of indecent intentions, of filthiness, perversion and murder instincts (it could happen they simply left the rooms and went to the bathroom or toilet and now were roving for hours, days or weeks in the labyrinth of corridors) …... or maybe I would recognise myself as one of them ….. I didn't dig through guide-books and monographs on the history of this town. Maybe I regretted I didn't draw the view through the window – I don't mean the round hole in the doors, I mean the window which was not there, the not existing one. But in those days I didn't think of collecting windows, not at all.