Chapter 2
And the days went by—indifferent, ordinary, with nothing special happening.
Anna got up, poured coffee into her favorite mug, and sat on the balcony. The days passed in dull, monotonous shades.
Suddenly, she heard footsteps in the apartment upstairs. It had been empty for a long time. She wondered about it, but didn’t get up to see what was going on.
The hours went by, and Anna remained there, sitting on the couch, curled up in that old blanket. Weekends were her favorite; she could sink into her sadness and loneliness without anyone bothering her.
And yet, someone did.
She suddenly jolted at the sound of the doorbell—she wasn’t used to it, after all, people rarely came by. She hesitantly got up to answer the door, her little dog hiding behind her legs.
She opened it, and the figure of a tall man appeared. Pale as milk, thin, wearing a Superman T-shirt.
“Good evening… sorry to bother you. I’m Peter. I just moved into the apartment upstairs, but they haven’t connected the electricity yet. Is there any chance you have a spare candle? I don’t think I’ll manage with just my phone flashlight…”
“Good evening, and welcome. Yes, I think I have some tea lights. Come in, don’t stand there, I’ll find them in a moment. Would you like some water? Anything?”
“No, thank you, I’m fine. Very nice place… and a very sweet little dog.”
“Thank you. You can pet him if you want.”
“Don’t take it the wrong way, but I’m a bit afraid of dogs… so maybe not.”
“No problem at all. Here are the candles.”
“Thank you again. Have a nice evening.”
“You too. Good night.”
As Peter left, Anna sat back down on the couch and thought about the pale man. There was something mysterious about him… something strangely intriguing.
She quickly pushed the thought out of her mind. She had, after all, promised herself that she wouldn’t try her luck with men again—especially after her last failed relationship with Andrew, and everything it had left her with, psychologically and otherwise.
She poured herself a glass of wine, sat on the couch, took her dog into her arms, and put on a movie—like almost every night—until she grew sleepy enough to drift off.
A restless sleep, full of worries and thoughts.
