Apostle. That’s me. I am lying on a painted wooden floor in a strange cold house that is miles away from my mistress. Some people come occasionally (probably, they are the owners of the house) and offer me some food. I don’t want to eat. I want to be with my mistress.
I don’t know what day it is today or how long I have been here. I have lost count of the days. Too many of them have passed since that evening when my mistress left me here. I am waiting for her. She will come back, she surely will.
To be honest, the owners of my present dwelling are kind people. They worry about me and are anxious that I refuse their food and may become ill. Their house is surrounded by a beautiful, but neglected garden. Out of the window one can see a lake that is far away and the woods, surrounding it. Not a single house in the neighbourhood. I understand those who live in out-of-the-way places. These hermits are really kind, but they can’t substitute my mistress…
-1-
At first there was darkness. I woke up in something that was warm and very sticky. I stayed there for a while and then decided to get out of this place. I pushed and crawled forward, feeling that somewhere ahead of me there was an exit. The liquid that surrounded me was moving as well. I was trying hard, but had not much strength. Each motion was so tiring, but I made up my mind to get out at all costs. Slowly, but persistently I was moving forward. There came a push, then another one – and suddenly I felt that I was out of my prison. After some convulsive movements I fell on something soft. Having stayed in the darkness for a long time, I was blinded by bright light and lost my bearings. I took my first breath, choked on the liquid that was still around me and coughed loudly. I was born and let everyone present at my birth know about that by this coughing. Someone’s caring hands delivered me from the sticky stuff I felt sick of and laid me down on cozy bedding. Going through the difficulties of my birth had been so tiring that I fell asleep, completely exhausted.
I spent the first month of my life among my brothers and sisters that were born on the same day. Like me, all of them had got blind after their birth, and it took us more than three weeks to get used to the light and discern objects. We were still too weak to move on our own, but every one of us was making attempts to stand or even walk. Sometimes our legs did not want to obey and we clumsily fell on the floor, being absolute failures in walking.
