Book: OMON RA

For some reason I felt empty and alone, like a very long way through the bare autumn field; it was so unusual a condition, that I forgot about everything else, including about constant in recent months, the feeling of approaching death, which has lost its sharpness and became just a background to all other thoughts.

The little I saw and experienced, but there's a lot I liked, and I thought the flight to the moon will incorporate all the past that I passed, hoping to see it then once and for all; how was I to know that the best thing in life every time I see the corner of my eye?

... So the news that the deed would remain unknown, was not a blow to me; the blow was the news that you have to perform the feat.

But the battle of ideas is a field where you cannot stop for a second.

MiTek doubted many things, but one thing was sure. He knew that the first would become a pilot and then fly to the moon.

In my heart, I felt a loathing for the state, vague but menacing which made any, even for a few seconds, occurs a group of people diligently to imitate the most obscene of its members, but realizing that peace and freedom on earth to achieve, spirit, I went up, and everything that demanded my chosen path has not entered into any contradiction with my conscience..

At the beginning of the summer I heard from someone idiotic song that had the words: "My Phantom like a bullet fast, in the blue sky and clean with a roar, gaining altitude". I must say that her idiocy that I quite clearly understood, not prevented me to move it to the core.

We don't choose the times in which we live, the time chooses us.

I remember looking at the clock, wondering, how slowly the grains of sand slipping down through the glass throat, until I realized that this is due to the fact that each grain has its own will, and none wants to fall down, because for them it is tantamount to death. And yet for them it was inevitable; and that this light, I thought, very similar to this watch: when all the living will die in one direction, the reality turns and they come to life, that is, begin to die in another.

... at least no soul, of course, the person does not, each soul is a universe. In this dialectic. And while there is at least one soul where our business is alive and well, it's not going to die. Because would exist the whole universe, the center of which will be this...

I suddenly felt disgusted by the thought that I'm sitting in this little spat the closet, where the smell of garbage, disgusted by what I just drank from a dirty glass of port wine, from the fact that all the vast country where I live is lots and lots of such small spat of little rooms that smell of garbage and just came to drink port, and most importantly - it's a shame from what it is in these smelly closet and burn those countless colored lights, which I have in the evenings is breathtaking when fate carries me past any highly placed over the evening capital window.

The headlines scared some ice superhuman courage and strength - for a long time because nothing stood in their way, and they with a terrible scope all beat and beat in the void, and this void being drunk (and I noticed that it drunk, but did not attach any importance to this) it was easy to be hesitated to get a soul under some kind of major task days or Hello cotton.

We are receiving the people whose profession was a feat, they told us about their life without any pathos; their words were simple, like the kitchen, so the very nature of heroism seemed to be growing out of everyday life, from household things, from the gray and cold of our air.

The word "death" was present in my life as a piece of paper with a memorable record, has long been hanging on the wall, I knew she was on the spot, but never stopped her look.