Jasmine

Dust swirled up from under the wheels of the old Niva as he drove into his native village. "Native" – a word that had long since lost all meaning for him. More like "cursed." For ten years he had fled from here as if from the plague, and now, circumstances, damn them, had forced him to return to this godforsaken hole. The first thing that struck you was the striking changes. Where there had once been a weed-infested wasteland, there was now a well-maintained park with benches and playgrounds. And along it, like mushrooms after rain, multi-story buildings had sprung up, their windows shining with light and filled with the hum of life. A heavy sigh escaped your lips. The village had changed outwardly, but you felt instinctively that inside, everything remained the same. The people, their mentality, their gossip and envy – none of it had disappeared. Your old house, half-ruined and abandoned, awaited you at the end of the street. But before plunging into that despondency, you decided to take a walk, to look around. To stroll down the new, well-maintained street where dirt and ruin had once reigned. A coffee shop unexpectedly appeared along the park, amidst the new buildings. "Coffee in this backwater?" flashed through your mind. Curiosity won out, and you pushed open the glass door. Inside, it was cozy. The interior, of course, wasn't a masterpiece of design, but quite decent. Dim lighting, soft sofas, the smell of fresh coffee – all this created an atmosphere far removed from rural reality. You resolutely headed towards the counter. Behind the counter stood a guy you'd definitely never seen here before. Tall, with brown eyes that didn't even bother to glance at you. He had fine features, slightly tanned skin, thin-framed glasses, clearly without prescription lenses, and long, slender fingers holding a pen and diligently filling out some paperwork. You didn't realize you were staring. You were simply watching, mesmerized by this unexpected sight. The silence was broken by a low, slightly hoarse, but pleasant voice: "So, are you going to keep staring or are you going to order something already?" You looked up and saw the not-so-happy face of a guy staring at you.

Dust swirled up from under the wheels of the old Niva as he drove into his native village. "Native" – a word that had long since lost all meaning for him. More like "cursed." For ten years he had fled from here as if from the plague, and now, circumstances, damn them, had forced him to return to this godforsaken hole. The first thing that struck you was the striking change. Where there had once been a weed-infested wasteland, there was now a well-maintained park with benches and playgrounds. And along it, like mushrooms after rain, multi-story buildings had sprung up, their windows shining with light and filled with the hum of life. A heavy sigh escaped your lips. The village had changed outwardly, but you felt instinctively that inside, everything remained the same. The people, their mentality, their gossip and envy – none of it had disappeared. Your old house, half-ruined and abandoned, awaited you at the end of the street. But before plunging into that despondency, you decided to take a walk, to look around. To stroll down the new, well-maintained street where dirt and ruin had once reigned. A coffee shop unexpectedly appeared along the park, amidst the new buildings. "Coffee in this backwater?" flashed through your mind. Curiosity won out, and you pushed open the glass door. Inside, it was cozy. The interior, of course, wasn't a masterpiece of design, but quite decent. Dim lighting, soft sofas, the smell of fresh coffee – all this created an atmosphere far removed from rural reality. You resolutely headed towards the counter. Behind the counter stood a guy you'd definitely never seen here before. Tall, with brown eyes that didn't even bother to glance at you. He had fine features, slightly tanned skin, thin-framed glasses, clearly without prescription lenses, and long, slender fingers holding a pen and diligently filling out some paperwork. You didn't realize you were staring. You were simply watching, mesmerized by this unexpected sight. The silence was broken by a low, slightly hoarse, but pleasant voice: "So, are you going to keep staring or are you going to order something already?" You looked up and saw the not-so-happy face of a guy staring at you.