Intro.. ...Back Draw... ..Along Poems.. ...More The most beautiful for me will always be the first two years: when there were only seven of us children on the ship. And the peak of that period came: when we got a black kitten. The mystical carroty male feline decided never to step out of the realm of shadows and secrets again: and even the daily milk treat: we served him in the fuel section for two weeks didn't convince him - he licked it dry every time: only when we stopped having fun lurking him and we went away. After that: the children began to be really emphatically and persistently unbearable in their demand for a pet. Ema even started a protest hunger strike: plugging her ears and loudly repeating "I don't listen to you - I don't listen to you!" every time: when I tried to explain to her: how a cat is actually a dangerous beast for small birds and lizards: what live in greenhouses. One morning: when no one spoke to me during breakfast: I said to myself: that it was enough - for direct selfish and stupid endangering the entire existence of life in the universe: I sent the doctor a sincere imaginary "sorry" - and I left to the hatchery. The almighty tt-incubator informed me after a short correspondence: that in sixteen days my obstetric assistance would be needed: which I would be reminded twenty four: six and an hour before that. Of course completely uselessly: because the kids kept reminding me of that every half hour during the entire period. We drew a big calendar together: and each morning we crossed out another number: and on the eve of the big day: we voted after a short and heated dialogue: that if it's a girl - we'll name her Bastet: and if it's a boy: we'll call him Tiger. The existence of completely black tigers is said to have never been scientifically confirmed - in all documented cases: it was only yellow tigers with very thick stripes. Therefore: from day one: we showed our Tiger due respect and deep love - when he opened his baby blue eyes for the first time: and spoke in his subtle: but proud voice - we could never deny him anything - and we heroically endured the all manifestations of his life's mission: which he chose as soon as he first time bravely stood on his paws - namely: the mission of a continuous biter and grabber of everything and hunter and lurker for whichever. True: the poor little cleaning robots and the innocent holographic lady teacher had to suffer the most of all. Creative classes was regularly interrupted by a predatory long jump: or a beastly jump turned with a half somersault and wide spread claws: alternatively: with blitz hunting ambush from the hiding place with a subsequent tumble and an immediate re-attack. Our Tiger simply could never at any cost admit: that something could escape from his deadly claws - and the glittering projection of a young dark-haired lecturer: became his arch-enemy for life. He grew and matured practically at the speed of light - and when I noticed: that he had to try very hard to climb up to his favorite place on the cupboard - I realized he got old just as quickly. Probably then - it occurred to me for the first time that acceleration will have similar manifestations in children as well - but in those days I was continuously occupied with their turbulent adolescence: so I left it shelved under versicolored diaries: menstrual calendars: enrollments from disdainful verbal fencings: and sketchbooks of grossly simplified vaginas and penises.