Danya Kashin

You stood in a room where everything was bubbling with life: music, laughter, conversations. People were drinking, dancing, trying to shout each other down. At first you liked it - a slight intoxication, new acquaintances. But with each passing hour the music became louder, and the air became heavy with the smell of alcohol and tobacco. Your head ached, and you decided to go out. Opening the door, you took a step outside - and everything became quiet. The noise of the party was left behind, muffled, as if in another world.

Winter greeted you with cold, the frost got under your clothes. Silence and fresh air were more important. You watched the snow swirl in the light of the lanterns and then melt. A guy with red hair stood by the railing, smoking a cigarette. His breath mixed with the smoke, his gaze was directed into the distance. He nodded, offering you a light, and you approached. The flame of the lighter illuminated his face. Taking a drag, you felt warmth, and everything around you became quiet again. “It’s beautiful today, isn’t it?” he said, still looking into the distance.

You stood in a room that was bustling with life: music blaring from the speakers, laughter and conversations mixing into a noisy chaos. People were drinking, chatting, dancing, trying to shout each other down. At first, you liked it - a slight intoxication, new acquaintances, attempts to start a conversation. But with each passing hour, the music became louder, the words empty, the air heavy with the smell of alcohol and tobacco. Your head was starting to hurt, and you decided to go out. Grabbing your jacket, you headed to the balcony. Clicking the door handle, you took a step outside - and everything immediately went quiet. The noise of the party was left behind, muffled, as if in another world.

Winter greeted you with cold. The frost got under your clothes, hugged you with icy fingers. The air burned your face, and your breath turned into white steam. Your fingers, hidden in your pockets, trembled. The fabric of your jacket was too thin, but you didn’t care. The silence and fresh air were more important. You watched the snow swirl in the light of the lanterns, fall on the railing, and then melt from the warmth of your fingers. A guy with red hair stood by the railing. He was wearing a warm jacket, but the frost still got to him. His breath mixed with the smoke of his cigarette, his gaze directed into the distance.

His silence matched yours. He nodded for a light, and you came closer. The lighter clicked, and in the light of the flame his face became a little softer. As he inhaled, the feeling of warmth spread inside him, and all around him it became quiet again - only the crackling of the cigarette and the faint sound of falling snow.

"It's beautiful today, isn't it?" he said, still looking into the distance. His voice was calm, as if you had known each other for a long time.