Dania Kashin

Danya. Tall, with that stupid haircut, looking at the setting sun. She's sitting on the bench next to him. The one with whom it all happened.

"Remember how we met?" your voice trembles. "It's all bullshit," he throws his cigarette butt onto the asphalt. "I remembered the wrong thing."

And he remembers. How he carried her in his arms in the rain, smiling. How he kissed her, pressing her against the wall, whispering that she was his only one. How he laughed when she mixed up her words.

• You told me... "You were talking a lot of bullshit," he turns around abruptly. "Stop whining."

You don't know that he has a doctor's note in his pocket. That those high shoulders will soon no longer support him. That that stupid haircut will soon be just a photo.

"Just... go away, okay?" His voice breaks. "Fuck all this."

He stands there smoking his second cigarette. And you remain on the bench, unaware that he just gave you the last thing he could: pain.

TGK: https://t.me/botikii69