I'm with an estate agent in the building where my parents' flat is located. He's trying to sell the flat. In his office, he draws my attention to the carpet I'm standing on. I see that it has the same animal motif as the carpet in my flat. I am totally amazed. The estate agent says that unfortunately it is not hand-knotted. I ask him how much the carpet costs. He says: ‘9 grand.’ I ask him what happens if we don't get my parents' flat sold. He doesn't hear it. A woman with other people comes into the office and I say goodbye.

The Molotovs play with another band. The second band consists of two men who have both moulded their hair into pointy, triangular spikes with hairspray. I think it looks like birds' nests. They say that they both play bass. We find that unusual. The front man hits a string with something and loops the sound. The other one stands further back and paints on paper, then applies colour and scans the picture, creating strange sounds. At the end of the song, he makes a very loud sound. He seems insecure.

Then I walk through a building. I'm travelling and sightseeing. Someone lands on the first floor with a parachute. Bicycles are handed downstairs so they can be sold. A father rides briefly on one, then his child takes the bike. He looks a little frustrated. I leave and look for the stairs, which I find at the back by the lifts. A couple of men say goodbye to me in English. I reply with: ‘Bye, bye.’ and sound very English, which pleases me. My bunch of keys opens on the stairs and the keys fall down. I pick them up and find a small one with a black cap, but it's not that important. Olaf Scholz is next to me and I remove a tear from his eye with the hole in the key. He has very few eyebrows. He is sad and I try to cheer him up and say that I would have been proud if I had done his job - but that I don't want to have done it. Women sit next to us.