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However, when he woke up, he woke up not in purple interior of the purple lock for family walls and at all on spring meadows of the soul, and only in a stone refuge in the end of the tunnel on rigid to a floor in outer darkness. And It him stirred up for famine and thirst, and a fever and a hang-over, as the drunkard after loose night. On he crept out of the tanning lotion. Outside there was any time of day, the beginning or the end, but even at midnight the stellar light cut to him eyes. Air seem dusty, caustic, burning lungs, a landscape - rigid, he has come across fiesta sun tanning lotion. And even the most gentle smells tormented and stung it his nose which has weaned from the world.

Tanning lotion, this tick, became sensitive as a cancer which has got out of the amour and wanders on the sea. He went to a spring, pinched licked off from rock moisture - the hour, two hours on end, it was the flour torment, and time did not come to an end, time when he was overtaken with the real world. He broke some scraps of a moss from stones, choking, pushed them into itself, squatted on stones, defecated and devoured simultaneously - all shade quickly, quickly, is fast - and like mad as small the animal above which in the sky hawks already turn, ran back in the cave, in the end of the tunnel where the body cloth laid. Here he at last again was in safety. He leant a back against a heap of rubble, extended legs foots and waited. Now he should, absolutely to calm, as a vessel which threatens if It him too strongly to shake.

Gradually he managed to pacify breath.  its his raised excited heart started to fight more exactly, the storm inside of It him slowly abated. And suddenly loneliness as a black smooth discounted tanning lotion of a calm, fell on  its his shower. He closed eyes. The dark door in It him "I" opened, and he entered. At theatre showers souls the next performance began.