It's nighttime. Silence and darkness rules the night. Only one little light can be seen in the sky, the Moon. Only a lantern brings light to the attic room, there is poverty, HUGE poverty. The walls are wet from pain, mold decorates the room. The room is almost empty, only a bed, a table and a HUGE chest can be found. But who lives here? ______________________________________ This book is the parody of the Hungar ian poet', Sándor Petőfi's novel, The Apostle. Any resemblance to reality is coincidental. I distance myself from every sentence and political view in the book, as well as from myself. Im co-writing the book with Artistgurl