Andrash stepped into the corridor. It smelled of bathroom. Passage was lit by glaring light from the ceiling. Faint hum of the engines permeated the space. He knew that he shouldn't be here, but stay in bed sleeping, or pretending to sleep, but the call was too strong.
As every other eight year old, Andrash was inquisitive, too. Something boosted this trait manyfold. Very idea that he will sneak out of the cabin and into the corridor blosomed inside him with peculiar ardour. Stepping on his tiny toes, he slipped from the darkness into the light.
Tunnel-like passages forked, seemingly at random, as if constructors of the space ship "Butterfly" searched for the best way to fit a cabin here or some other useful room there. Andrash had no idea where he was going, but heat inside him was burning stronger when he took the right direction. After trial and error, he learned how to follow this internal compass.
Suddenly he was aware of the voices and boot steps against the soft carpeting of the ship's corridor floors. He surged backwards and sadness welled inside him. Still, it was not too strong to stop him or give him a warning like it would to an adult. Unhappy, he was returning to his room, but he was not broken and that's what made him wonder. He was wondering even more about the fact that he was wondering. Flow of his thougths was too analytical. Really strange, he wondered... I'm not like that usually...
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