Roman was never a friend of mine.
He was just a quiet boy, a little younger than me.
He was the son the our family friends. They migrated from Russia to Israel when roman was just a young child.
I don't think that I even exchanged 2 words with him in my whole life. He was just there. A round faces with with big teeth. Kinda cute, but very very shy.
Roman was 19 when he was earning his money as a kitchen worker at a local wedding hall. He was about to be drafted to the Israeli army.
I don’t know how many full moons i've seen since that awful day.
I came back from work. A few minutes after - his stepfather was banging on our door hysterically. I opened the door with a smile on my face as usual. He came in, very confused and saw may mother, a dear friend of his. He couldn't speak. He just sat on the sofa and said to her with a broken voice - "something bad happened to Roman". I can't remember much after that. I just went outside to the garden and looked at the sky with tears in my eyes. The full moon was looking at me And I cried.
While at work, lifting a heavy rice sack and carrying it to the elevator - Roman fell down to the elevator shaft and broke his neck and died.
19 years old, his mother's only child.
Almost four years had passed, and still - a full moon has only one meaning to me. Nothing to do with romance, but everything to do with Roman.
I remember you.
Michal



