Meeting with Destiny
I was awoken at night by some kind of mechanical tapping. It was as if an alarm clock was ticking resonantly right next to me. In my sleep I had got cramp in my muscles, my arms lay like feeble bonds along my body, I needed air and there was an overpowering stinking stuffiness in the ward. Overcoming the now usual pain in my chest, I raised myself on my elbows and looked at Bezhan. He was asleep, lying on his back, and every second his mouth would open wide in hopeless attempts to catch just a mouthful of oxygen from that stuffy air, just a tiny mouthful, so necessary to him after the operation, already the third in his not so long life. Even in the darkness it was evident how he was suffering. I did not immediately realize that in the ward there was something unusual
