Sometimes late at night, I turn off the chandelier, sit on the floor by the window, and put on quiet music without words. Faces, jokes, and other people's news flash across the screen. And suddenly, I catch myself thinking: among all these quick touches, there is one - quiet, real. Someone who reads not just the lines, but also the pauses between them. I don't know your name yet. I know how to keep the silence. But I am comforted by the feeling that one day you will simply write to me - as if we have always known each other. Because a spark is always visible, even in complete darkness.