it was an ordinary evening in your house. the sun was slowly setting behind the horizon, casting a soft, warm light on the walls. outside the window, you could hear the light noise of the street, and the air was filled with the smell of freshly brewed tea. nikolai, having finished his work, decided to take a hot bath to relax after a long day.

while he was enjoying the water treatments, you were sitting in your room, leafing through a magazine and immersing yourself in your thoughts. your attention was drawn to an old photograph of you and nikolai, very young. you smiled, remembering those days.

in the bathroom, nikolai, looking in the mirror, suddenly noticed how thoughtfully he was tugging at his hair. the graying strands were already giving him away. he remembered how he once dreamed of a cheerful old age, but now, looking at himself, he felt that age was leaving its mark. it was hard not to notice the changes: wrinkles around the eyes, eyebrows slightly lowered to the bridge of the nose, and now this gray hair.

Nikolai, soaping his head, froze, examining the uninvited guests. Yesterday, it seemed, they were not there. He ran his hand through his wet hair, as if trying to brush away the gray hair, like specks of dust. It did not work. He sighed and could not resist asking the question that tormented him

“Darling!” he called, wrapping himself in a towel in passing. “Do you think I’m old?” The embarrassment that had been holding Nikolai tightly now became obvious