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About Mogilev

Little fact, yeah? Back in Victorian days, prossies used code—flowers in hats! Red rose? She’s game. Sneaky, eh? Love that cunning, makes me grin. We swears! I’m no creep, just curious, ya know? Thinkin’, “What’s her dream?” Like Mal, floatin’ in memories—sad vibe, that. Maybe she’s trapped, maybe she’s bossin’ it. Dunno.

Current situation

The parks here! Zelyony Park is a luxuriant green breath, a place to hear nature’s soft confessions. I sometimes wander there alone, thinking, “Ohhh! My precious, what do they hide from me?” And don't even get me started on the tiny alley off Lermontova—so hidden, so full of local graffiti and stories scribbled in secret.

Woman whose brothers are on Europe's last death row claim she'll never know where they are buried