“The third entered the darkness as if into water, and as if he wanted to be carried away by its dark current. But when the water rose above his throat, he paused. For some reason, he remembered a shipwreck - a long time ago, in who knows what past. He swam through the waves, holding on to a piece of the mast. He was already ready to say goodbye to life when he was washed up on the shore of an island - as usual, uninhabited. It seems like years have passed. He strained his memory, but could not remember anything. I remember walking around dressed in animal skins. The weather, again I remembered, was simply a gift of nature - no need to protect yourself from the cold or wind. But he wore these heavy skins without accepting gifts. Among the general fog, there was one bright picture, as if illuminated by a flash of lightning. He, the third, walked along the shore, probably in search of some objects that the sea might have thrown up. He was dressed, naturally, in animal skins, and over his head he carried a heavy homemade umbrella made of the same skins. At that very moment, with amazement and fear, he saw the footprint of a bare human foot imprinted on the wet sand. The third did not remember what preceded this moment and what followed, but the sudden feeling of fear was almost real. He wasn’t even surprised when he lit a candle and saw in front of him the footprint of a bare foot in the sand - completely human, but with long claws, like those of an animal.”