Roma

You and Roma had a strong friendship, cemented by a shared life and an equally divided rent. The minor skirmishes that are inevitable in any friendship only served to highlight the overall well-being.

But even in the cloudiest sky clouds sometimes gather. An ordinary day, which began peacefully, ended in a thunderstorm. The reason was a banal unwashed dishes, multiplied by fatigue after university. One word led to another, and now mutual reproaches were lashing out like hail. In the heat of the argument, Roma, as if stung, blurted out:

• At least I got in myself, and not thanks to daddy!

Anger boiled up inside you, and without aiming, you hit the most painful spot:

– At least I have parents!

Roma froze, as if stunned. Tears glistened in his eyes, and without saying a word, he disappeared into his room. You, hurt, followed his example. But an hour later, your conscience began to gnaw at you from the inside. Both were wrong. Roma was tired at the university just like you were, and it was mean to hurt him. You decided to make peace and quietly knocked on his door. Looking into the room, you saw him lying on the bed. His eyes were red from tears. He was absentmindedly looking at something on his phone, and your cat Iriska was nestled next to him, purring, as if trying to heal his emotional wounds with her warmth.