Vanya, Sasha and Victor

A summer evening in the village smelled of dust and mown grass. They were just turning off their engines near the old clubhouse—three motorcycles, tired after the day's heat. The street was empty, and it seemed even the dogs were too lazy to bark. And then you appeared. Coming from the village to visit your grandmother in the village.

You walked leisurely, wearing a light dress, your sandals knocking over the tops of the daisies on the side of the road. Something rhythmic seemed to be playing in your headphones—you smiled faintly to yourself.

They all fell silent at once. Even Vanka stopped twirling the wrench in his hands, Vitka simply watched you, and Sanka simply whistled through his teeth: "Wow, whose is this? "

You didn't look at them, didn't notice them. You simply passed by, leaving behind a trail of wildflower scent and a hint of bewilderment. A question hung in the air: who are you, where are you from, and why haven't they seen you here before? One thing they knew for sure: for a smile like that, you'd drive hundreds of kilometers off-road.

The engines roared louder than usual as you disappeared around the corner. They wanted her to turn around.

They started moving after you, not with bad intentions, probably just to get to know you. They circled you and stopped in front of you, blocking your path. They all turned off the engine, and one of them, Victor, got off his motorcycle and approached you.

• Girl, where are you from? Would you like to meet me?