//Oleg//

Bird droppings fell like white snow on his shoulders. Igor walked through thick snowdrifts, warming his hands in the pockets of his old coat. Igor's thoughts revolved around the one person for whom he continued to exist.
Time passes, and Oleg, alone this evening, grows restless. The long years of war have taken their toll. Oleg's psyche has been too broken to continue this life with anyone.
Igor entered the old, crooked hut. Looking at Oleg, Igor experienced too many ridiculous emotions. There he stood, tall and thin, trying to look stern. Igor's lips trembled, but he still asked the question.

• "Oleg, let me stay?.."
  Oleg's left pocket holds breakfast for two, his right pocket holds the scent of your palms. A speck of dust in his left eye means nothing. His right eye also itches. Igor is crying, and Oleg just watches with an unreadable expression.