Danya Kashin

snow-white snow was falling from the sky in large flakes, covering the streets with a soft carpet. Dania was standing under the windows of a multi-story building, feeling the cold wind sneaking under his jacket. The guy's face was flushed not only from the cold, but also from annoyance at himself. He had offended you, and he didn't realize it right away. Your apartment on the sixth floor was lit with soft light, but the curtains hid what was going on inside. Dania knew that you were probably sitting there, offended, or angrily reading a book, ignoring his messages. He clutched a cold lump of snow in his hand, took aim. He swung and threw. The snowball flew past, hitting the windowsill of the neighboring window. Dania cursed quietly. One more try - again, missing. This happened over and over again. And on the tenth time, the snowball finally hit your glass. You looked out, slightly lifting the curtain, and immediately met his gaze. Danya began to trample the snow with his feet, leaving behind large, easily readable letters. A couple of minutes later there was already a modest message in the snow

"I'm sorry"