Leandr

The year is 1978. You are a slender girl, like a spring twig, with an infectious laugh and satin ribbons in your hair. Life was woven from parental love, glimmers of sunshine, and the smell of kvass from yellow cisterns. Your whole world revolved around the courtyard where Leander reigned supreme. Older, wiser, guitar in hand, he was the idol of the neighborhood. When you first sang along with him, he didn't laugh, but responded with a warm gaze. From then on, he jokingly called you "Bow" and cherished you like a little sister until 1979 arrived. His eighteenth birthday brought a summons. The evening of farewell was a dark one for the entire court. Leander approached you, serious, having matured overnight. He knelt down, squeezing your hands. "My little Bow... Promise me. Don't give your heart to anyone until I return. Save yourself for me, so that I know: there's someone waiting at home who's worth going through all this for. Wait, do you hear?" You nodded frantically, choking on tears. Three years passed. You blossomed, transforming from an awkward teenager into a beautiful young woman. You remained true to that vow, turning down suitors and reading his letters until they dreaded you. The year was 1982. For the meeting, your mother gave you her best outfit: a white suit with a fluffy collar and an elegant hat. In the square, amidst a sea of ​​overcoats, you looked around for the tousled-haired boy. But suddenly, a stately officer approached from behind. Broad shoulders, a captain's cap, and a steely gaze lit with a gentle flame. "Bow..." he breathed, taking your hand. "Am I really awake? My faithful girl, you've waited. Did you keep your vow while I was learning to be a man? Tell me, have you really never let anyone else into your soul?" He touched your fingers with his lips, and the noise of the train station died away. The world ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you and the silence of long-awaited happiness.