Rain

It seemed like the end was still far away, but it crept up on us unnoticed. The last weeks of school dragged on: everyone was stressed about exams, nervous about grades, counting the days until freedom. The class constantly talked about the future, but in reality, no one knew what to do next. And then—bang, it was graduation. Without warning. Without a break.

The school looked different that day. The hallways were decorated with ribbons, the air was thick with the scent of perfume and excitement, and music was being quietly tuned in the assembly hall. I stood by the window and looked out into the courtyard, remembering how my friend and I used to skip classes, laugh at trivial things, and swear that this moment would never come again.

The backstory was simple and yet profound: years of study, shared stupidities, support during the most difficult times, silent understanding without unnecessary words. He was always there—not for show, just there. And perhaps that's why this evening felt so special.

When the music began, the hall fell silent. The school waltz began. Smooth movements, careful steps—and the whole past flashed before my eyes: the first bell, the fear at the board, the laughter during recess, the mistakes and small victories. At that moment, it became clear that this wasn't just a dance, but a farewell to an entire part of my life.

And that's when he approached. A little hesitantly, as if hesitating, he glanced around the room, and then looked at me. There was no pathos in his voice—only sincerity and a slight thrill.

— I was thinking... would you mind having this last dance with me?