On a winter night, fine snowflakes drifted outside the window, densely covering it. The flames in the fireplace burned quietly, exuding warmth, while the hot tea on the table emitted a comforting aroma.
The noise of the television alternated with the peaceful sound of the fireplace, allowing Bologue's tense nerves to relax, and he became drowsy.
Just as he was about to fully enter dreamland, a sound of footsteps awakened Bologue. Opening his eyes, he saw an old woman carrying a plate of freshly baked cookies come to his side.
"Would you like one?" she asked.
Bologue nodded, reached out to take one, and bit off a corner, the sweetness flooding his mouth.
"Delicious," Bologue said.
The old woman smiled and then sat down beside Bologue. The two nestled on the sofa, facing a black-and-white television that played unfamiliar programs while the host droned on about trivial matters.
The clock on the wall ticked gently, producing a crisp ticking sound.
