The rat with her ratlings also took part, in some way, in his dream — it turned out that Artiom and Galia had also saved the rat and brought it back in their boat. That, naturally meant that Tom and Marie in that moment were under his bunk eating gruel — which wasn’t quite true; though that would be their business, their business… The important thing was that everyone was warm — Artiom, the rat, Tom and his wife, or girlfriend, or bride…
He barely woke up right before lunch, having become even younger, as though there had never been any camp behind him, as though almost everyone that he knew hadn’t died here.
They brought an amazing lunch — milled porridge with butter. The porridge smelled insistently of something meaty.
Artiom finally felt how hungry he had gotten during these past day
