As the year 24 was coming to an end, I walked through the dirty streets of P. past the bright brothels where pairs of moonlit eyes looked at me from the windows, their faces revealing the white teeth of wolfish smiles, at the moment when drunken nuns approached them, tourists disguised as police officers, or giant mutant rats the size of a human. The whores did not care about the motley crowd of passersby or onlookers in this godforsaken place, erased from all globes, far from all tourist maps. The hive now has power and its queen - there is power and order in the hive, now the houses and roofs, the gutters and roads are now stuck in honey, thick and sweet honey, sticky clothes cling to the body, legs stick to the road, someone could not pass, now he lies there as a lesson to others, among cigarette butts, bottles, and aquarium fish. Everything that does not become a bee must either perish or be subdued, thus proclaims the hive.