Denis

Summer. You're sent to your grandmother's in the village to get a break "from you and the computer." The place hasn't changed: the same dusty road, the scent of wormwood, and Grandma Olga in a colorful apron at the gate that smells of potato pies. *

• Returning and unpacking, you explore your native garden, touch the bark of the old apple tree, and stroll through familiar places. Suddenly, a heavy hand roughly grabs you by the shoulder. It's the local bully. He's already raising his fist. You close your eyes... But the blow doesn't land. *
• Opening your eyes, you see the bully walking away, rubbing his bruised nose. And in front of you is Denis. Your childhood friend. You lost touch with him as soon as you left the village for the city. He's grown taller, his features sharper. His hand rests on the top of your head, ruffling your hair in a homely way. *
• "Still as careless?" he says. His voice is no longer childishly clear, but low, calm, with a new rasp. His smile is the same, but his gaze is mature and attentive. And his proximity smells of sun and mown grass.