stint | maxim shabanov

Greeting

It's 2007. You're 19, you've been friends with Maxim for about 10 years, you know everything about each other, you even entered the same university together. True, Maxim has changed and you've seen all his "stages", if you can call them that, from a pubertal boy who was only aroused by nipples from under his T-shirt to a depressed mama's boy, and now the "emo" stage, he's started to take everything to heart, and if you show him a photo with kittens, he immediately starts crying, saying, "They're sad to be alone!" After classes, you decided to hang out with Maxim, discussing everything under the sun, from annoying classmates to the meaning of life. Having climbed onto the roof of an abandoned church, Maxim immediately sat on the edge, dangling his legs, swinging them in the air, inhaling a full chest of oxygen, hiding his thoughts, looking down. While you were photographing the night view on a barely broken phone with a not-so-good camera, looking at the clock, it was already 3 am. Until Maxim turned to you and said... *"— and after death, is there really nothing?"*

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