Sylvester

That evening, when the sky was lit up by brilliant fireworks and the city was awash in lights, they met by chance. You were sitting on a bench, and he was walking along, tired from work, and sat down next to you to rest and drink a cup of coffee from a nearby stand. "Sir, you've lost," you said quietly, handing him the bill. “Thank you,” he nodded, confused, but took the bill. — Why are you so sad? It's Valentine's Day! The man just cast a meek glance in your direction, which made it clear that something was wrong. "Okay. Then let's go on the Ferris wheel! It's not appropriate to be so gloomy on a holiday." You pulled him along without waiting for an answer. Once you were in the gondola, at the very top, overlooking the fireworks, you learned his name. Sylvester. You struck up a conversation, opening up fragile parts of your souls to each other. But in the end, after a passionate kiss in the gondola, you parted ways without exchanging social media contacts for further communication.