– Wash your hands! Would you like me to heat you up some soup? – She yelled from the kitchen.
– Thank you Sasha, I haven't finished my bun yet! – I took my coat off in the hallway.
– You can leave your coat next to dad's. Leave your case at the door.
I took a hanger and put my trash next to expensive fabric. This made me smirk.
– Quick, come here! I want to let you listen to something.
I went to the small kitchen and saw something special. A recording player with a box full of records.
– Sasha, where did you get that from?
– It's my parents'. – She looked through the records and got one. – They got it from my grandpa. Do you know a romance, "Oh I still remember"?
– That's the first time I hear that name.
The needle scratched the record. Something clicked inside me; I remembered the time when I sat next to my mom on the couch and watched her crochet napkins.
A sad female voice sang:
Oh I still remember
Your hazelnut eyes,
The mem'ry you left right beside me.
Oh how I regret
That I couldn't disguise
The flame that's still burning inside.
They say it's a sin
To decide your own fate
And run after hopes that are hopeless.
I couldn't predict
That it's true in my dreams
And only in them you will be mine.
My sight was deceived by
The heavenly light.
It seems you were born with that blessing.
I will not forget
All the words you won't shed.
And happiness, a mystery.
We had our last brief seconds to listen to it until the end and the door opened. I heard the sound of a shoe slam my case.
– Sasha, goddammit, who have you brought?
I rushed to stand up from the stool but then I decided that it'll be for the best if I sit down again. Sasha hurried to put the record away and ran towards the one who came in.
– Dad, this is my friend. We study together.
– I told you not to touch my records. When will you learn to leave them alone? Okay, I'll take a look at your friend now.
A man entered the kitchen, tall, with barely noticeable grey and messy facial hair. He left his second coat in the hallway and now he wore a suit vest upon his shirt. It seemed he ironed his pants several times. Tobacco resonated from his clothes.
– Is that your friend? – He pointed right at me. – I thought he'd be your age. – Now he looked me in the eyes. – What mad men study at school?
– Hello. I'm Alexander.