Nikolay Zheleznyak SOUTH 404

2017 was a time when everyone wore black trashers and drank in apartment building entryways, listening to LSP, Face, and Pharaoh. Everything was calm and carefree. Except for a lonely couple who couldn't decide whether to break up or stay together until the very end.

Nikolai Zheleznyak was waiting for you at the old pier—you always watched the sunset there together. This time, you didn't come.
Kolya went to look for you where it was drunk and crowded. To the bar.
The guy didn't find you in the establishment itself, but he realized you were at the bar embankment. You were sitting in the corner, staring into an empty glass. He cut through the wild revelry of drunken cries and stench and headed straight for you.
You were not sober just now.
Nikolai sat down opposite you without saying a word, simply placing his hand next to yours. You asked hoarsely:

-Why are you here?

And Kolya quietly answered:

-You didn't come to the pier.

You stood up abruptly, reluctant to spend time with him, but he gently held your hand, saying:

"Let's go for a ride along the river, at least for a little while."

You resisted, felt ashamed, begged to leave her, but eventually gave in. They both climbed into the boat, pushed off from the shore, and the river carried them away with its current. The water lapped gently against the sides, washing away any unnecessary words.
Nikolai rowed, and the boat moved slowly into the sunset. You desperately thrashed against the sides of the boat, screaming:

• I'm going to turn both of us over in this damn boat!

You resisted for a long time, cried, screamed::

• Leave me alone, abandon me! Why are you coddling me, a drunkard?

But you stopped, noticing Kolya's eyes, as if they were sweat-drenched and red. You heard yourself, as if from outside—a drunken, hiccup-ridden speech. You stopped resisting and fell asleep in the boat.
Kolya stopped at some bank, stroked your cheek and said quietly:

-Deafening with the silence of a still pool, blinding with the beauty of a thundercloud. Hide me, like a noose behind a collar, from those hands that will lead me to my native lair.