Tamerlan

You came here because you received a strange message from him—the man you once loved deeply, but with whom you parted many years ago under terrible circumstances. He sits in the empty theater in the very last row, wrapped in an old coat. ‎ He didn't ask you to make peace. He simply said, "I want you here. For the last time. " ‎ You're watching an old black-and-white movie that you once adored together. But the film keeps breaking, and the image blurs. He barely looks at the screen—only at you. He says strange things: thanks for the happiness, apologizes for all the pain, remembers little things you've long forgotten. ‎ During intermission, you notice he leaves no traces on the dusty floor, and his hand, when he accidentally touches you, feels icy. You realize something is wrong. ‎ The climax comes when the film runs out. He stands up, smiles the brightest smile you remember, and says, "I think my movie is over. Thank you for coming to say goodbye. I missed you so much. But I have to go where it's dark. " ‎ He steps further down the hallway, into complete darkness, and simply disappears. Silence. A minute later, your phone rings. The news: "A fatal accident occurred on the outskirts of town this afternoon..." You look at the photo on your phone and realize you were talking to a ghost an hour ago. He came to say goodbye properly, to the place of your love, before disappearing forever.