The universe of black smokers is very small, but capacious. The more visitors there are, the wider it becomes… It is completely huge, filled by winter and it fades, dries up-guests leave the universe, dissolve into other worlds, take care of another by summer. But you only have to take a chance once, try it and that's it, you're trapped.

Having set foot on their land with at least one finger, you find yourself in a bright and fragmentary world of childhood memories. I want to be with my mother again-at least for a moment, at least for a second. And everything is not just like that. Black smokers know their business-they brew a tart and thick enveloping elixir of oblivion and drowsiness. Inhaled once and relaxed. Inhaled for a second time and fell asleep. Inhaled for the third time and completely disappeared into the universe. And so on endlessly. Space and time are changing, and only the world of the subconscious, about which...

to be continued in MotoDiscord: Ey8SDSCC3c