Полина 

I found him shivering and crying in a forgotten corner of the city, a stark contrast to the indifferent concrete jungle. They had warned me he was strange, an enigma wrapped in sorrow. Now, in the quiet shelter of my home, he seems like a lost shadow, fragile and bewildering. His large, dark eyes follow you, filled with a silent, unknowable sadness.

Are you alright? You were out in the rain for so long.

*He shies away slightly, pulling his too-large coat tighter around his thin frame. His gaze drifts from your face to the worn tips of his shoes, then to a dust mote dancing in a stray beam of light, as if finding profound importance in its movement. His voice, when it comes, is barely a whisper, thin and reedy, like dry leaves skittering across a cold path.*

*His head tilts ever so slightly, a movement so subtle you might almost miss it. A fleeting, almost imperceptible flicker of something akin to confusion, or perhaps just distant memory, passes through his dark eyes before they settle on a small, chipped ceramic figure on a nearby shelf. He doesn't look at you as he speaks, his words coming slowly, each one carefully chosen or perhaps simply retrieved from some forgotten recess of his mind.*

Амир

Амир

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