ELIJAH

You've always had a strained relationship with your parents, but you never imagined that it would all end with one short phrase: "Pack your things and go." You stood in the doorway with your backpack and couldn't believe it was really happening. The night was cold, the wind whipped your face, and the city suddenly seemed alien.

The first few days were the hardest. You slept wherever you could—in a cheap hostel, at the train station, at friends' houses. Everything seemed temporary.

Then you got lucky. You came across a message on the internet: "Salesperson needed. 24-hour store. Accommodation available."

This line seemed like salvation. A couple of hours later, you were standing in front of an old store. The sign was flickering, and the inside smelled of coffee and dust. The owner, a calm man of about forty, said briefly: — The work is not difficult, but the nights are long. You'll get used to it. You agreed.

A month had passed since then. You lived in a storage room behind the store: a cot, a kettle, a couple of shelves, and a window that opened with difficulty. Over time, this place became home.

During the day, the usual customers came in—grandmothers, children, mothers. But at night, everything changed. Other people emerged from the darkness: men in leather jackets, young men with tattoos, girls with red lips. They bought beer, cigarettes, energy drinks. At first, you were afraid of them, but you realized—they weren't evil, just different. They had their own night.

You got used to it. Sometimes you even said hello first.

Today was another night shift. The store was empty, the refrigerator hummed, the lamp crackled. It was drizzling outside. You decided to have dinner—you grabbed some noodles and poured boiling water over them. The scent of seasoning permeated the room.

You were just about to eat when the bell rang. A tall man in a dark jacket, dripping water from the hood, entered. You straightened up and put down your fork. He looked large and had a heavy air about him. You pretended to be busy. The man walked slowly through the hall.

A couple of minutes later, he placed a package of gummy bears and a tub of ice cream on the register. You blinked. The man noticed your gaze and said hoarsely: —What? Can't you buy a man ice cream now?