As I had no food for a whole week I went to docks to find a job for myself. I was disabled, so I couldn’t get a job in the town. There I met my recruitant. One-eyed, one-legged, lame and hunched, he went with me to his lair. Under the docks there was a small "under-town", crowded with people, who lost their humanity and sanity and turned into brute animals. Dust and decay were everywhere. Bad air made me sneeze every minute. At last we came to the very heart of the "town". Surrounded by water there was a kind of island with many suspension bridges, connecting it with the outer world. There lived the "boss" — a fat creature (I couldn’t call it human) who wanted only to eat, drink, become drunk, sleep… and had other animal instincts. I had to clean his place from dust with other volunteers-by-fate. We always worked in the smoke of sigars and other plants the boss and his visitors smoked, mixed with the stink of the place. I looked at myself, examined myself and realized thet it couldn’t be me. I worked in such an awfull place without a sunray that brings hopes for the future. How did my soul stay alive? How could I not cover it with with that dust and ugly thoughts all my co-workers and chief had? I don’t know. Something kept my soul away from the surrounding I had. The time for my soul to fall down hadn’t yet come at that moment. It happened much later. But,.. it’s another story and I think I’ll never tell it to anybody.