Daniel by Yelizaveta Horbachova

It was a regular morning for Daniel.

Snoop, his loyal canine companion, was the first to stir. He whined softly, nudging Daniel's arm with his wet nose. Daniel groaned, burying his face deeper into the pillow. "Five more minutes," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. Snoop persisted, licking Daniel's face with enthusiasm. Finally, with a resigned sigh, Daniel opened his eyes. He blinked against the sudden light filtering through the window. The room was a symphony of textures: the rough-hewn wooden beams of the ceiling, the soft, worn rug beneath him, the cool, smooth surface of the windowpane.

He reached out a hand, his fingers brushing against Snoop's warm fur. The dog, sensing his awakening, thumped his tail against the floorboards, a joyful, rhythmic sound that filled the small room. Snoop, restless, nudged Daniel's hand again, a soft whine escaping his throat. Daniel patted the dog's head, feeling the warmth of his fur beneath his palm. "Alright, alright," he murmured, standing up.

He navigated the hallway, his hand trailing along the rough plaster walls. The air grew colder as he approached the living room, where the large windows offered a panoramic view of the snowy landscape. He heard the clink of a coffee cup, and Sandra's voice, low and strained, speaking to someone.

"Zoe, I told you, I need time," Sandra said, her voice tight. "This... this is not a story." Zoe's voice, sharp and insistent, cut through the quiet.

Daniel paused, his hand resting on the smooth, cold doorknob. He felt a prickle of unease, a sense of intrusion. He hesitated, then pushed the door open. The living room was bathed in the pale, diffused light filtering through the windows. Sandra sat at the oak table, her face pale and drawn. Zoe, a woman with sharp, angular features and a notebook clutched in her hand, leaned forward, her eyes bright with a predatory intensity. Suddenly, the loud music started playing, making it impossible for Zoe interview Sandra.

It was time to wash Snoop. At first, the dog was hesitating, though it ended up crawling into the bathtub. Warm soapy water dripped off the dog's fur. He rubbed gently, feeling the wet fur under his hands. Snoop stood still, quiet and patient. The bathroom was steamy and smelled of shampoo. It was a calm, gentle moment.