He is one of my good friends. We don't talk much today, but a few years before Victor and I were really close.

We lived in our separate bachelor pads only a few floors apart. Sometimes we got fast food together, played videogames and whatnot.

In the summer of year 201X I was supposed to move to another country, my visa processing was jumpstarted and then halted immediately. I already made a commitment to my landlady to move out in July. March, April and May came and gone and my residence visa approval wasn't in sight. I had to move out of the apartment and had nowhere to go, I didn't plan to stay in the country much longer, but wishful thinking was going to get me nowhere.

And then, suddenly as summer rain Victor came and offered me help. Said:

"You can just stay at my place until you find something or maybe you get your visa approved."

I was ecstatic: not only I didn't have to look for a new apartment, but I only would have to carry my stuff a few floors up via elevator.

So, in one sweaty afternoon we moved all my life possessions together.

As it was a one bedroom apartment my only choice was to build my nest in the kitchen. It was a nice, spacious kitchen; it was bright and faced east, and as apartment was on the top floor the morning sun would bother me every single day that summer.

Victor was a wonderful host, he didn't complain about me being there even a single time and I am eternally grateful to him.

While nice, the kitchen still was a part of a bachelor's pad. This also means a disassembled road bike lying right by the entrance; some extra water bottles in the kitchen (you don't drink tap water back where I was), stuff cluttering the surfaces and, of course, unexpected life in the fridge.

When I opened the fridge for the first time I nearly choked, so overwhelming was the smell. But, of course, trying to be a grateful guest I cleaned it out, threw away stuff that was moldy (hint, all of the fridge contents) and gave it a nice deep clean. I'm a neat freak like that. Scanning the kitchen my eyes found a multicooker, without hesitation I lifted the lid and was ready to gag again. The THING that was inside looked at me, I looked at it, replaced the lid and went to give a hug to the toilet.

A few days later, after dusting more surfaces and filling the fridge with fresh groceries I built up enough courage to get near the multicooker again. I put a pair of cleaning gloves, threw the THING out (gag) and gave the multicooker dish a deep rinse. It was ready to be used again. I had an idea.

You see, our national dish is borscht. I won't bore you with the details, but basically it's a beet soup. Super tasty, a bit fiddly to cook, but worth it every time.

I went out shopping, bought all the groceries needed, came back and was ready to be a grateful guest once more. Cut the veggies, sautéd them, added meat, poured some water from once of the water bottles. By the time Victor came back from work the hot borsch was ready to be served. I downed about three delicious bowls already, my friend only had one, saying he wasn't hungry.

The next morning I was ill. How ill, you ask? You didn't ask? Well, I'll tell you anyway.

Have you ever fired a party popper? You know, those things full of confetti, you pull a cord, it explodes and confetti comes out? Well, I was a party popper from both ends, and it was not confetti exploding out.

After settling down about an hour later I called Victor and asked to bring me some medicine when he's back from work: painkillers, absorbents too.

Once he got back home I immediately got a few pills out and was ready to wash them down, looking around the kitchen for a cup and started to fill it from a water bottle.

"What are you doing? Don't drink that water, I put some bottles under the ceiling when it started leaking."

"What." - I put the cup and the bottle back on the table.

"Yeah, it was raining hard. I forgot to discard the bottles after."

I fell silent for a while, then furrowed my eyebrows.

"It wasn't raining in the past few months."

"Yeah, it was sometime in spring."

I sat down.

"How are you feeling, Victor, were you not ill this morning?"

"Nope, I'm fine."

"Weird. Because yesterday both you and I ate borscht made with stale rainwater."

# life

Beside you

Borscht