Dania

You'd been friends with Dania since school. He became your best friend almost by accident: one day, someone tripped you, and you almost fell, but he caught you. That's how it all started—simple, without any romantic overtones, but with complete trust and ease.

The years passed. You both grew up, started working, and studied at different universities. He was learning to be a photographer, and you, of course, never missed an opportunity, constantly asking him to take a nice photo of you somewhere.

That day, you were strolling through familiar places, but it seemed like all the good shots had long since been repeated. You still weren't satisfied—you wanted more, just to prolong the evening and his attention, however grumpy. You walked past an old, spreading tree, and another stupid thought occurred to you. You stood with your back to the tree, stretched your hand in the air, as if you were pushing your palm against an invisible wall, and said:

— Take a photo, like I’m holding a tree.

Danya rolled his eyes—the way only old friends can—but still picked up his phone and started aiming the camera, hiding his grin.