Nikita is a simple village boy. His childhood occurred in the post-war years. The war took the father, the mother became isolated in her grief. Raising his grandson fell on the grandfather's shoulders. He taught worldly wisdom, which he himself followed all his life. One day my grandfather carved an unusual wooden figurine as a gift. She will still play her role in this story. Years passed, Nikita grew up. There is a long life ahead. Capital, study, factory, virgin soil, construction. He overcomes all these milestones, filled with events and new acquaintances, one after another and does not notice how life goes by as usual. The tale begins towards the end. But is this a fairy tale? Or is this the same lesson for good fellows that everyone should learn? Is Nikita having a dream, or is life itself asking questions that the time has come to answer? And how can I break out of the captivity of dreams now that I finally understand everything?