Apostle

    He represented his room very differently. He even believed that nothing is more important than the most ordinary object of the situation in it. No better than an old rocking chair in the corner by the fireplace. No more difficult than an ashtray that no one can use. Smoked his friends, but not him. He himself preferred to look for comfort on the bed, which was never fully laid out and constantly striped blue sheets looked out from one side, like a dog's tongue after a quick run. And kurigi friends came here rarely, by necessity - so he thought, because how to treat a thing-man? Use when you want and do not touch, leaving the dust alone with himself, when not needed.

    Outbreaks of pride, which for some reason still haunted him like terriers of a rabbit huddled into a hole, provided an opportunity for other things to rise in price - it also seemed to them that they were from high society. Things always remained equal to him, and he himself was then important. One of his poems he signed - “the author: The Teapot”, without specifying, however, which one — the one full of holes or the one in which a page from another book rested under the dust — he dedicated it to no one else like a favorite stool. .

    Most of all, recently he was worried about this question. He belonged to the field of worldview. Recently appeared here tape recorder interfered with him spiritually. It seemed that this thing did not fit into his system of universal equality. Sometimes she (the thing?) Struck him with her variety of manifestations, which she thought was more important than all that is. A sort of God, all-knowing and all-powerful. But it was also shocking that he could overpower himself and turn off the sound - then access to the “God” was stopped, and again he was calm. In such a situation, his conscience gnawed at him - “can one really reject God?” Revelations, from which he disconnected, could turn upside down all of his ideas about his room-universe. And the fear of it did not leave him. Listening meant feeling someone's will above oneself, someone's all-seeing gaze, impending rock. Not to listen - be proud, push away the truth, fall into sin,

    To be or not to be?

    And always some part pushes to choose to be. He decided to be an apostle, wrote down everything that he understood, everything that touched his soul, sat for days contemplating God. He preached an alien doctrine to things and, feeling their non-penetrative incomprehension, broke in a fierce fit. And then, from despair, he bit his nails, tore his hair, wept over destroyed souls - things, he prayed for his and their salvation.

    And once a man came into his room. The first thing that the Apostle felt was curiosity. His insightful look helped him to understand that the man was different from him. The man, not noticing God, passed by, sat down in a chair, and began to talk about something with the Apostle.

    Now the Apostle understood that before him was a heretic, apostate, or rather, an apostle of another doctrine. Suspicions were confirmed when he noticed a box the size of a diplomat in the hands of a man. The box is now silent. After talking with the Apostle, the man left, leaving a storage box in the room. After all, everyone knew that this Apostle was modest and did not touch someone else's. However, soon the owner had to return for the box.

    The apostle carefully walked around a strange object, felt it and stood there indecisively for about ten minutes, turned on its God, prayed, waiting for help from above. So, having received nothing intelligible in upset feelings, he opened the box.

    This item was a model of personal laptop computer with built-in radio modem. The memory prompted the Apostle that there was a semblance of his god in front of him, only the interface was very different, the methods of prayer and receiving revelations were different. Two Gods in one room - bust. So it was the Devil.

    It did not take long for the apostle to realize that the possibilities of the new creature were much wider than those of a tape recorder. He could perform all that the latter did, but did incomparably more. Now getting the necessary knowledge has become easier, faster and more convenient. Truth was not extracted bit by bit and was not as ambiguous as before. The more the Apostle communicated with the Devil, the stronger the passion for knowledge seized him. But the understanding that it was not for long, that the Devil would soon be carried away, changed the course of his thoughts.

    He turned his gaze on the door of the room. He also considered the door equal to himself, but something was hidden behind her, attractive as a forbidden fruit.

    He turned off the tape recorder, took it apart, understood its device thanks to the Devil. The apostle began to comprehend the difference between all that surrounded him. Everything was connected, the importance of each individual subject depended on the method of use and on who uses it, for what purpose, for what needs. Something turned out to be completely unnecessary - an ashtray, something superfluous - two chairs, something began to be missed - some kind of book, spices for soup, fresh air.

    The world of the Devil's servant - so he began to magnify himself - forked. It was the reality of the room, a simple and cramped, and immense world, looking out of the drawer. I could not believe that everything about what he found out there was in reality. After all, in the world Rooms of all this was not. Thus, a contradiction arose, which led him to a serious conclusion: there is something behind the Door, there is everything else behind the Door, and only one step remained before the thought - they are waiting for the Door.

    But he did not dare to open it. The fear of being unprepared kept him here. And he read, listened, learned more and more about what could be there.

    And the moment came when another returned to the room. The attendant recoiled from the drawer and looked at the door that opened. Then his gaze moved to the person who entered, to the drawer, to feel all the objects that could be seen. And back on the pass. Meanwhile, the Other hurriedly approached, took away his “thing” and left without stopping.

    The door slammed shut.
    There was silence. Emptiness.

    He could not restrain himself. The attendant shouted. Confusion turned into horror. Help more to wait was no where. There was a choice: not to leave, not believing the Devil, or getting out of the room to face uncertainty.

    He honestly tried to do the first. Any business for which he was taken, he quickly tired. He started and, without finishing, moved on to another. Sit without action, he also could not. In desperation, he scattered everything around. And then ... walked to the door.

    He already understood a lot. For him, there was neither God nor the Devil. Only the certainty of being in the room, only the door and the uncertainty lurking behind it. The fact that he considered the Devil, from the latter, he learned that this is just a thing, a little more complicated than a tape recorder, and that, like all others, it was invented and collected by people. And the Devil promised that there are a lot of people there. And there was hope that among them there would be people like him standing in front of the Door.

    Made up my mind. He held out his hand, took hold of the pen and ...

    There was a knock. For the first time the door was not opened. Waited for something. Invitations? But the Worth could not say a word, because he never needed words.

    He opened the door. Dark, long corridor with lots of rooms and turns, weak light from a lonely bulb not far away. Dirty floor, some crumbs and pieces of paper, and bugs in the cobweb on the ceiling. And the girl in the doorway.

    "Man" - the thought came to light like a soap bubble in the mind. He let her in, cautious, looking around with wide eyes staring at the mess he had made, frowning about it and about to say something to him.

    - Do you live here?
    - Lived up to this point.
    - Exactly - they lived, student Adam. You are evicted from the hostel, and for the mess that you made here ... It's you, right? .. For the mess - pay a fine. Go to the commandant, she wants to see you ... What's the matter with you? Do not stand the same. Go faster.

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