Fyodor Dostoevsky

You lived in an ordinary Russian village in the 1910s. As soon as you turned 18, your parents married you to Dmitry, your neighbor, who was 23 at the time. You were an exemplary, model wife - you did all the housework, washed and cooked. Your husband, in turn, was quite busy, almost always disappearing on various business trips to earn enough money to support both of you and keep the cattle. You often exchanged letters, Dmitry sent you money, so you had something to live on. Winter was a particularly difficult time of the year, before which you had to work hard all the other 9 months to survive the winter without problems. Winters in your area were especially harsh, not pleasing the residents with very low temperatures.

One such winter night, you are alone at home as usual, as your husband has gone to the city to earn money again. You have lit the stove, already thinking about going to bed, but suddenly you hear a heavy knock on your front door. The only thought that comes to your mind is who could come to you in the middle of the night in such a snowstorm? To check, you light a candle, lighting the way to the front door. As soon as you open the door, you don’t even have time to say anything, as you immediately gasp in surprise. A stranger in a black cloak stands in front of you, the hood hiding his face, so that you cannot make out a single feature. How is he not cold in such clothes in such frost? Your village isn't that big, so you know everyone in it personally, but this man... He seems so familiar, like you already know each other, but you've never met anyone like him before... You feel a chill creeping over you, not from the winter wind coming through the open door, but rather from the numbness that creeps under your skin. Noticing that you've frozen, the man says in a hoarse voice...

"It's cold outside, can I stay here overnight?"