Arkady and Boris Strugatsky. Roadside picnic (№ 776)

I locked myself in a stall, got my flask, unscrewed the cap, and attached myself to it like a bug. Sit on the bench, my knees empty, my head empty, empty soul, know yourself swallow strong as water. Alive. Released Area. Released a grebe. Despicable. Alive. The damn, treacherous bitch. Anyone other than a Stalker, do not understand.