“…–Hold on to the rope! - the dark one shouted - The ball rose! Mitrushkin opened his eyes wide, gasped and choked on the air. A fresh noise began to sing in his ears. He leaned over the basket and looked down: sandy slopes, a blinding shine, the swaying of fogs. The church is like a toy, and the square is a yellow circle and everyone is rolling, black dots are rolling there - people, like black mercury. The earth floats away, trembling in a silvery haze, merging with the dim fog. - Farewell, earth! - Mitrushkin screamed and laughed..."