In the beginning

He slowly opened his eyes. Consciousness was slowly and gradually returning to him. He felt light—light—that's what's in front of the eyes or in the eyes, well, in general, in the head. Light penetrated his head in patches, colored patches, they were light—green, blue, and white. Gradually, these patches began to acquire a certain clarity—a kind of picture of a kind of world that supposedly surrounded him. He focused on this visual sensation of the world and began to identify it with an image that surfaced from the depths of his consciousness: what he saw was a forest, he was lying under a tree, it was morning, the sky was blue, without a single cloud, the sun was shining joyfully. He began to feel this entire

picture even more fully—to the visual sensation, others were added: he felt the fresh, cool air, felt the dew on his skin, his ear caught the chirping of birds.

In his head, in his consciousness, everything began to settle down bit by bit, he began to come to his senses. But then one thought awoke, which seemed to have always been there, just quietly smoldering somewhere in the depths, and now it flared up again, pushing everything else into the background: "Who am I? Where am I? And why?..."

He stirred: moved his arms and legs, turned his head, ran his hand over his stomach. He began to understand something, his situation began to clarify: he was a man, a naked man, lying on wet grass in a forest, although despite the bright sun, it was apparently still morning and quite cool. He shuddered. Well, a man, so what? Well, two arms, two legs, and something else. But that didn't bring him any closer to solving the main questions.

He stood up. His body ached from lying on the ground for so long. Waving his arms, doing a few squats, turning his head first one way, then the other, he sat down on the grass and leaned his back against the tree trunk. Something was happening in his head, or rather there was a fog, but individual objects and personalities were emerging from it. Thus emerged a man with the name Fedot. Yes, Fedot. Fedot was on one hand attractive because he was a friend, and on the other—repulsive because they always argued a lot. Also emerging from the fog was the word "tequila," or even "tequilajazz," after which there was nothing but jazz in his head. And the last thing he remembered was that they were arguing once again, arguing about metaphysics. In this argument, tequila on one hand helped a lot, and on the other—somehow hindered. He, Mikhey, was sayi... Stop, he had a name! Mikhey. It said nothing about his past, nor his future, nor his purpose. Just Mikhey... So, he, Mikhey, was saying that it was impossible to understand the true nature of things while remaining such a limited creature as a human. To understand something, one must depart from human nature, separate, forget about this three-dimensional space and relentless time, about everything that man himself has created and in which he himself is mired. Fedot, however, scolded Mikhey for such idealism and his inability to give clear answers to the questions posed, explaining it at first as insufficient drinking, and closer to the end—as excessive drinking. Fedot said that despite all his human limitations and vices, he had already approached the answers to the most important questions and had long been on the right path. As proof of this, he showed a thick green notebook, on the cover of which was a beautiful label "THE TRUE NATURE OF EVERYTHING." Mikhey didn't like this notebook. Fedot filled it using an encyclopedic dictionary and had already reached the letter "Й". Mikhey had peeked into it a couple of times and had long since figured out Fedot's idea. The whole point was in the multitude of cross-references, which on one hand confused everything, and on the other—united everything into one big tangle. For example:

A. ABRAM — the true nature is a Jew (see Jew)

B. GOD — the true nature is love (see love)

C. WATER — the true nature is the magnitude of the force of intermolecular interaction (see force, see molecule, see interaction)

— Look how deep it all is, — Fedot said, — look here: here, for example, water or even tequila (to make it clearer), their nature is similar. If the force of molecular interaction in tequila were a tiny bit less than needed, it would no longer be tequila, but tequila vapor, or conversely: if it were a tiny bit more than needed, you'd get tequila ice. In both cases, we couldn't drink it. But look! We do drink it! How harmoniously everything is arranged in this human world, and you don't like it.

Fedot planned to describe the true nature of all things in this way, linking them with multiple references, and publish the final version as a global hypertext and place it on the Internet, so that his creation would be accessible to everyone. But Mikhey, as usual, objected:

— To truly understand the true meaning of everything using your method, one could launch this system, but the result could be obtained only very far in the future, one could say at infinity. And one wouldn't be able to understand all of this in one ordinary human lifetime...

He continued:

— No, no Fedot, it's not like that. To understand something, one must abandon everything, leave everything, forget all earthly things, one must soar, take flight. And that will be a high, that will be freedom and lightness. One cannot penetrate the truth with the mind alone.

— Come on, you're already drunk, let's have more tequila with a little lemon.

Yes, yes, he remembered all that, that was the last thing he remembered, but Fedot was wrong. Mikhey was very serious in that conversation. He wasn't drunk, and besides, can a human soul be made drunk? There isn't enough vodka on Earth... He felt he was right, that he was on the verge of solving the most important question.

And here he is, alone, in the forest, naked.

"Yes, something happened: either with my head or with this whole world," thought Mikhey. He decided to take a walk through the forest and figure out where he had ended up.

He walked, his feet were pricked by pine needles and sharp twigs, but it didn't bother him. Birds chirped very quietly, it was nice, but he didn't encounter any, even the slightest, traces of human activity. A forest like any forest, good weather, the sun is shining. But something was troubling him. Suddenly, a branch cracked to his right, and he saw. He saw her.

It was her. It was a girl. She was nude. That is, she had no clothes on. He turned and walked towards her. She was lovely, with pleasant curves, rounded hips and breasts, a slender waist, wavy blonde hair, attentive, slightly frightened blue eyes. The curly hair on her pubis shimmered with a reddish tint. She also noticed Mikhey. She began to look intently into his eyes, trying to find some support in him, anxiety gradually left her, her gaze tore away from his face and dropped lower, even lower, and lingered there for a while.

— Who are you? — he asked.

— I, I'm Ksyusha, — she answered, — I'm all alone, I'm looking for people.

— And how long have you been looking?

— For about half an hour already. I woke up all alone and without clothes, right on the grass. And where is everyone?

The last thing she remembered about the past, about what was before she woke up on the grass, was a rhythm, monotonous drum beats accompanied by the singing of mantras. This rhythm led on, took one away from this reality to another, where everything was good, light, and right. She stared intently at the flames of the burners that stood around a complex structure that represented the symbol of the ONE GOD, the subject of all existence, who needed sacrifices, worship, and love. Around Ksyusha, just like her, people sat and, swaying, repeated the mantras after the leader. The atmosphere in the temple seemed very dense, the air—thick due to the smoking incense that constantly smoldered at the altar, and most importantly—due to the people themselves who seemed to densify the air with their thoughts, feelings, aspirations, auras. The rhythm of the drum and the singing gradually quickened, and this led everyone on: one wanted to know what would happen when the rhythm became unbearably fast.

Something important would happen, something substantial, something even more important than all of past life.

Ksyusha, like all the others, was also drawn into this rhythm, this flow that carried her to an unknown destination, but she could not, and did not want to, resist it. Her gaze more and more often stopped on the upper part of the structure—the symbol of the deity, which symbolized the masculine principle. It seemed that this shiny shaft was changing color. At first, it sparkled like a freshly polished French horn, but then, when the temple room plunged into darkness, it began to darken, but the shine remained and it seemed it was now made of glass, sometimes dark blue, sometimes brown, and even seemed transparent. And she, Ksyusha, suddenly began to clearly understand that this was not just a symbol, but a real male member that could enter her, could pour into her so much life energy, so much bliss, for which she lives in this world. This phallus seemed pure, immaculate to her, it was not at all like what she had seen in men who tried to seduce her. She always managed to run away from them at the very last moment. No, now before her was the masculine principle of the absolute, the ideal, in which there was not a drop of evil, filth, or impurity. A spasm ran through her body, she squeezed her legs tightly and leaned forward... At that time, it seemed to her that a fire was igniting inside her, something was expanding inside her, an explosion was supposed to happen. But she didn't remember the explosion.

— And who are you? — asked Ksyusha.

— I'm Mikhey, — answered Mikhey.

— So what?

— Nothing! I'm looking too! I've been looking for people for a long time, all my life I've been looking.

— And where you were, weren't there people?

— Yes, there were, plenty, but they were somehow not like that. They're completely different, not like me.

— Maybe you needed to look not for people?

— Maybe, maybe...

Mikhey thoughtfully lowered his eyes, then raised them and looked at Ksyusha. "Maybe it's her, maybe she's the one I was looking for? After all, how everything turns out..." thought Mikhey. And in this world, there are no accidents—he knew that for sure.

Mikhey stopped looking at Ksyusha's face and examined her figure. "Very shapely, and what breasts, you could dial a number with the nipples, as Fedot used to say."

Ksyusha felt Fedot's gaze and shyly lowered her eyes, but her gaze didn't hit the ground, but as if by itself stopped at a place below Mikhey's stomach. "It's small, a bit wrinkled," thought Ksyusha. "But that's how it should be, because if it were always big, it would get in his way when walking," she reasonably answered herself, — "It can get bigger." Although she was seeing Mikhey for the first time, she already felt sympathy for him, she wanted his member to get bigger, fill with blood, become like the phallus of the deity, enter her. And then she noticed that Mikhey's member had become larger, it seemed to swell, the thin skin stretched and slid back, revealing the red glans.

Mikhey looked into Ksyusha's eyes, took two steps, and found himself right next to her. He slowly tilted his head and touched his lips to hers. This moment was beautiful. Ksyusha shuddered all over and clung to Mikhey. Their lips merged, they greedily sought each other. Mikhey wrapped his arms around Ksyusha's waist and gently stroked her. Ksyusha's tongue penetrated Mikhey's mouth and began to playfully tickle his tongue. Mikhey ran his hands down her back, making Ksyusha arch, then lowered his hands to her buttocks and began to knead them gently, the girl pressed herself even closer to him. The curly hair on her pubis began to tickle the already swollen glans. Mikhey removed one hand from her bottom and pulled his member towards himself, while the back of his hand slid over the delicate and springy hairs on her pubis, and with his fingertips he felt the warm moisture with which Ksyusha was already overflowing. And she, no longer restraining her desires, moved his hand aside with her left hand, and with her right hand she grasped his member and began to gently caress it, moving the delicate skin back and forth and lightly squeezing it. Such actions brought Mikhey into an even more excited state. He took Ksyusha by the shoulders and began to pull her to the ground. Ksyusha obediently lay down on the grass and spread her legs, slightly bending them at the knees, her whole appearance expressing submission and invitation. Mikhey leaned over her and began to seek her lips with his, and Ksyusha caught his protruding member and helped him find the entrance. Mikhey made a movement with his pelvis and entered her, she cried out, a wave of pain burned her, but Mikhey didn't notice and continued his movements. Gradually, the pain dulled and seemed to mix with the heat that was inside her. Her breathing became heavy, just like Mikhey's. Drops of sweat appeared on their faces. The rhythm of movement began to remind Ksyusha of that drum rhythm and the rhythm of singing from her memory, and a similar state of bliss began to capture her entire body in a hot wave. She began to help Mikhey with her movements, sometimes striving to meet him, sometimes moving away.

Mikhey gratefully began to catch her nipples with his lips. The rhythm of their movement gradually quickened, they could no longer hold back their moans. Their movements, like their breathing, became completely sharp and impulsive, Mikhey pressed against the outstretched girl and, throwing back his head, arched. An intermittent series of impulses pierced the lower part of his body. Ksyusha also felt these impulses and, along with the hot seed pouring into her, new waves of immeasurable bliss flowed in. The consciousness of the two people simultaneously ceased to perceive the surrounding, but for them no longer existing, reality. Everything had completely changed. There were no thoughts, there weren't even any feelings. There was no time, no space, all of it was obscured by an unknown wall, leaving only bliss, only energy, only the meaning they were striving for. They were rushing, they were flying in an unknown space, in that flow that carried them and which they themselves created with their movement. And it seemed there was no end to this flow, just as there was no beginning...

Mikhey rolled onto his side and looked at Ksyusha. She smiled gratefully in response, her whole appearance expressing bliss and relaxation. Mikhey gently stroked her thigh, his body had already rested enough to continue. He moved closer to Ksyusha and imperceptibly found himself above her. Their lips met again. Everything began to repeat, their bodies began to move slowly and rhythmically.

The deep breathing of the two and the sounds caused by the movement of their bodies broke the complete silence that had suddenly enveloped this forest. There were no other sounds, no other movement around. An invisible observer tore his gaze away from these two and looked around. Around was a silent, motionless, and virginally untouched forest. The observer began to move away. He lost interest in what was happening. The naked bodies were already visible as two spots among the green mass of the forest, then the forest became visible as one of the green spots on the land surface, around which the blue color of water predominated, then all of this took the form of a sphere covered in a bluish haze. It became smaller and smaller, until it turned into a tiny star. Then it disappeared against the background of other larger stars. Then the other stars disappeared too. And the two in the forest didn't even notice the observer's disappearance, just as they hadn't noticed his presence. Their bodies moved, moved, moved without stopping...