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TV channels were completely eclipsed by a sensational news story. The collapse of the USSR and the total end of the huge republic — the country's flag glowed everywhere, and the screen was focused only on it.
The spark of glares died down, and only the light from the television still illuminated the dull eyes. Hands leaned forward on the wooden table, which today had not been wiped and did not shine like yesterday or a week ago.
Charles hid in his small shelter made of hands folded on both sides. The soft voice of the female TV presenter began to talk about future forecasts, and the USSR was forgotten.
New Year's Eve was just warming up; the joy of the upcoming event brought a sense of bustle. Even the office was decorated with multi-colored threads, but the Christmas tree with its sharp branches still didn't glow — no one had turned on the garlands. Strands of hair fell over his face, blending with his skin.
Charles brushed back the tips of his blond hair and realized that he was already turning gray.
"Vladimir said that he should accept his old age."
He said many things and even gave advice that didn't quite interest the country. The night sky was shrouded in stars, and tonight there were too many of them — some seemed brighter than the others. He had seen them just as brightly only a very long time ago, and perhaps they had already vanished, swallowed by space.
Raising his head, he squinted from the sharp light. His body was already frozen to death. Throwing his hands back, he broke free, and the silence around him became the heaviest feeling. Perhaps the big city was preparing for a big future, but he was the one who didn't want to let go of the past.
His eyes darted across the dark corners, and among all the things that were here — a huge number of books, music records in glass frames, a flag — his own embodiment, and a telescope…
The device stood so close, looking out of the huge window.
Charles looked closer — now the white surface above this object was visible even in the darkness. Moving the chair, he pulled up a floorboard with a creak. But nothing else echoed in his head.
Standing near the telescope, he reached out his fingers to it, but the slow approach seemed like an endlessly stretching moment. Finally, the metal touched his skin — and goosebumps ran through his body, as if struck by an electric current.
"If this warm park is here, then why aren't you? When did you end up closer to the cold cosmos? You always tried to get my attention and showed your strength. Has time already run out for you?"
Charles pulled his hands away and approached the eyepiece, which was tilted down. Lifting the device to his face, he noticed something like a scratch. Someone before him had managed to damage the thing. However, what was the point now in finding out who it was?
Thinking about this, he closed his eyes to the scratch and simply wanted to see the Moon again. Tilting the telescope towards him, he lowered his right eye to it — and everything around him became closer.
Moving his gaze down, he began to lift it to the very top, where the spark of the Moon already gave off rays. White, pure, and lonely. His breath chilled him to the bone, and the fireplace died out with its last flame.
He remembered the moment when Armstrong landed on the very peak and planted the flag, marking a giant step toward progress. It was a shock to everyone, especially to Vladimir. Turning the dial even closer, he noticed how the stars grew quiet and disappeared from sight. How they distanced themselves from the Moon.
Charles thought only of those emotions of victory. How space became a battlefield for two powers that, it seemed, would never shake hands or even look at each other. This war took all the resources, all the strength, and even luck turned away, despite them.
The hourglass had run out, and all the sand lay there, not expecting a new countdown.
"I didn't have time to talk to you," his lips whispered quietly to the cosmos. Maybe there he would be heard and they would never be silent again.
"I thought we would reach the Moon together. We would run across it, look at the stars, and I would give every single one to you. We would shine and go into the sun, holding hands."