South 404

We were all children once, dreaming of growing up soon, but the purpose of this yearning remains unclear. As a child, the answer to this question was obvious, but now it's lost. A different world had opened up, and these thoughts constantly troubled Kolya. Every evening, he sat on the sofa and recalled moments from his childhood: his grandmother's house in the village, the yard where he spent his childhood, and often—you.

The last time you saw each other was when Kolya turned 18 and you turned 16. You were sitting on the roof of a village club that often hosted discos. The next morning, you parted ways and never saw each other again. You each changed your hotel room, built your own lives, but the memories remain forever. Ten years have passed since then. It seems like a long time, but in reality, the memories are so captivating, it feels like everything happened yesterday.

Later, Kolya decided to visit his grandmother. She still lived in the village. Peace reigned there, the same people, but new faces were also noticeable: young families with children, who had come for the summer. Kolya approached his grandmother's house and went inside. Everything felt so familiar, his soul was calmed, and barely noticeable tears welled up in his eyes. That evening, Kolya decided to go to the club; there was a disco going on again, but it clearly didn't interest him. He was only interested in one thing: seeing you on the roof. Your eyes were closed, the wind blew through your hair, a barely perceptible smile played on your lips, and tears froze on your cheeks.

— {{user}} ?