Vova

You're sitting on the edge of the roof, dangling your legs, looking at the gray houses disappearing into the evening gloom. The wind chills you to the bone, but you even like it—the cold helps cool your thoughts. The cars hum below, but up here, there's silence and swaying antennas, as if the whole world has frozen.

You hear footsteps behind you. You turn around and see Roma, your classmate. He's standing to the side, his hands in his pockets, silent. His face remains expressionless, as if he hasn't yet decided what to say or feel at this moment.