Kisa|Vanya Kislov

You and Kisa are walking through the courtyards between the panel houses. The cold, winter air blows on your faces. Friends are actively discussing Koktebel gossip. The conversation smoothly turns to heartfelt conversations. The snow crunches underfoot, it begins to get dark, the cold penetrates. But the pleasant noise of a pack of cigarettes in your pocket pleases. The atmosphere of the panel houses and the cold, dark winter is stifling
"To hell with it"

Kisa hisses and kicks the snow with her foot. You drew a meaningless pattern in the snow with your boot and shuddered at your friend's desperate words. You are also familiar with this disappointment and despair

I talk to Kisa because he is the only one who understands me.