Most of all it resembles not cleaned dissecting room, another's thought comes to to me mind. Another's because I, first, never
was in a dissecting room, especially in not cleaned, and secondly, even at my nonprofessional sight it did not resemble a
dissecting room, is faster on a slaughterhouse or on well-known house veld. Here have really torn to pieces some biped animals,
and mysterious predators have let out all blood from them on a floor, probably having preferred fresh meat, paternal I stand in a
huge pool of a viscous liquid with a heavy, sickening smell of dampness, carrion and iron. The sea has non-uniformly spread on
a floor, once again confirming that thought that blood at all water, already thoroughly having dried up, having curtailed and
having turned black in those places where its layer was absolutely small, and being allocated with brightly red stains in deep
places. A little marianskih hollows have settled down at me underfoot, and I stand almost on ankles in blood, for the first time on
the present having endured a literary stamp from books of horrors. Coast of the red sea okrugly, with the deep ledges of
peninsulas similar to fantastic birds or mosquitoes, biting long stings in sea open spaces and sating the of a paunch a viscous
delicacy and as in a complicated manner cut out fjords there where someone heavy and huge tried to get out on pliable take
place, thin as spring ice protected, which ruthlessly broke under fingers and elbows, was pressed through, taking the form of a
children's hill on which the giant again and again moved down in blood. Struggle was here furious - red splashes covered not
only wooden coast, but also with the big blots have decorated wall-paper and have somehow flown on a ceiling. The remained
furrows in the viscous sea where the brown floor was bared, speak about persistence of struggle - blood whipped from a giant,
giving new food to the sea, getting denser and drying up so that could not sweep with low heavy waves any more over a land
lying under a water level. In the same place, out of sea limits, the rough, nervous strips similar to dabs of a brush with the dried
up paint on badly grounded canvas blackened, and with a shiver and murashkami on a skin the rustle, a scratch, strained run of
the squirrel hairs on roughly manufactured cotton fabric are represented clearly and distinctly.