The night pressed down on the street, breathing heavily. The huge breathing masked the screams and struggles hidden in the house.
He stood on the street corner, his back crossed. When she walked from the shadows into the light, he was taking out a lighter from his pocket and lighting the low-quality tobacco on his fingertips. She just stepped on the light before she stopped and stared at him in the darkness. He wore a knitted hat, which covered most of his face and even the bruises at the corners of his eyes. His originally slender figure was not obvious because he was hunched over.
He was too thin.
He noticed her, turned around slightly, stood up straighter, and said in a joking voice, "We meet again."
She didn't answer.
"If we are destined, the next time we meet -" he put out his cigarette, "marry me."