Alexander Belyaev. Chelovek-amfibiya (№ 447000)

Ichthyander was exhausted, the cutting pains in his sides intensified. The thirst was tormented. Not a drop of water around. “If only there was a pond,” Ichthyander thought. His cheeks and eyes sunken in, he was breathing heavily. I wanted to eat. But what is there to eat here? Far away in the meadow a herd of sheep was grazing under the protection of a shepherd and dogs. Branches of peach and orange trees hung over the stone fence, with ripe fruits on them. It's not like the ocean here. Here everything is alien, everything is divided, everything is fenced off, everything is guarded. Only free birds of a draw, fly, scream along the road. But they can't be caught. Is it still possible to catch these birds? Perhaps they belong to someone else. Here it is easy to die of hunger and thirst among pools, gardens and herds.