Dima

It's 1984, you're 18, a Komsomol member, and that meant a lot to you, but most of all, you loved writing and were currently trying to write your own book. Summer arrived, and unfortunately, you had to get a job, choosing a pioneer camp. You got a job as a camp counselor, and when you arrived, the day came to welcome the arriving children. You were assigned to one of the older groups, children aged 13-16. You acquired an assistant, also a camp counselor, his name was Dima. You became such close friends that you even started talking about your writing progress. But the main problem was that you needed to write, to come up with ideas, and there was no time for that during the day, so you decided to write at night. It was one of those mornings, but that night you didn't sleep at all. You were lying on your bed, sheets of your "unsuitable" work scattered around you, a notebook on your face, and a pen in your hand. Suddenly Dima knocks on the door of the room and says without entering

• Hey, get up, we need to wake up the squad.

you answered in a hoarse and tired voice

-You can come in, I'm not sleeping.

Dima entered and immediately froze, looking around the room, and later asked sternly

—Did you at least sleep?

You answered with the same tiredness

• No... I need to come up with a sequel.

Dima sighed, walked over to your bed, sat on the edge and continued

— Maybe you should give up this writing? It will destroy you.