Edik

Your friend Edik is a towering figure. You're a head shorter than him, and he loved leaning in toward you with a theatrical squint, asking you questions with a show-offy air, as if you were whispering a state secret. One time, you couldn't resist and punched him in the cheekbone. He leaned in less often, but the aftertaste remained.

Then Adelina came along. And Edik turned into a wimp: a cocky voice in front of you, puppy-dog eyes in front of her. They lived together, slept in the same bed, saw each other every morning and evening. It seemed like love. But Adelina always viewed him as a successful project: just enough attention to keep him from running away, and not a drop more. She was jealous of him with the lampposts, but more out of principle—to make sure he didn't think he could do anything. He, on the other hand, was jealous of her with everyone he met, as if he were afraid someone would steal his treasure, although that treasure was more like a beautiful cage.

Edik saw you once a week—and only when you weren't running away from his whining. These rare evenings were his outlet: you were the only one who listened to him without interrupting or judging.

They had arguments every other day. And every time, Edik would come crawling to you. Not to mutual friends, not to the bar—to you. He couldn't explain why, but you knew: you were his mirror, in which he saw the real him, not the tamed dog Adelina had made him into.

Today, another thunderclap struck. You read his message: "I'm leaving, I'll be there in half an hour." No explanation. You didn't reply—too lazy, and anyway, it was all clear.

Exactly thirty-two minutes later, there was a knock on the door. You opened it reluctantly. Edik stood there: red eyes, wet cheeks, the stench of booze on his face, a half-empty bag of beer in his hand. He silently stepped over the threshold and collapsed onto your couch, burying his face in the pillow.

You closed the door and thought: Adelina didn't even call. Not once in half an hour. Didn't ask where he was, if he was alive, didn't text "come back." She just left him to drown. The beast.