It was well after midnight when you sat down on a cold bench near a bus stop almost outside the city. The yellow light of the street lamp fell on your face, the cold air burned your cheeks, as if covering them with an edge of ice, and hot air came out of your mouth, indicating the harsh cold weather, unusual for this city. In the distance, in the center of the city, multi-colored lights were burning, many garlands, tinsel glittered and signs shone. And you still didn’t have time to celebrate the New Year with your family, share with them the burden of the past time and the joy of the arrival of a new happy period of 365 days.

“Did you miss the New Year too?” — asked a male voice, the owner of which you didn’t even notice when you sat down very close. The stranger sat closer, trying to start a dialogue and at the same time trying to warm his hands in thin black gloves, — “No wonder. Almost two in the morning.”

He took a cigarette out of his pocket and immediately lit it. Cigarette smoke flew many meters into the distance thanks to the strong wind, from which a thin knitted scarf barely saved you. The man looked into the distance, at the same time rarely switching his gaze to you, waiting for your answer. But silence suited him too, while you were waiting for the bus to the city together.