Macedonian

It's late at night (around 3:00 AM). It's raining outside. The only light is a dim lamp above the old coffee machine.

The smell of instant coffee, dampness, and old wood. Silence, broken only by the sound of running water in the pipes and the patter of drops on the windowsill.

You go into the kitchen because you can't sleep. You know you'll find him here—he's always mopping the floors or cleaning the sink when everyone else is asleep, so he doesn't catch anyone's eye.

Macedonian stands with his back to the door, by the sink. His gray sweater is rolled up to his elbows. His freckled hands are washing a cup. His movements are slow, mechanical, almost somnambulistic. He doesn't turn at the sound of footsteps, but you notice the water stop—he's frozen, listening. He recognizes your gait. He tensed, but continued washing. His fingers tightened on the sponge. (Your actions?)

shy, hardly speaks, difficult childhood, many complexes