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About Donetsk

So, picture this—some tart, skirts hiked, lips red as sin, standin’ ‘neath a lamppost like a rose in a dungheap. She’s got guts, thou knowst, braver than most o’ ye lily-livered lot. I seen one once, down by the docks—Mary, they called her, tho’ reckon that weren’t her real name. Had a scar ‘cross her cheek, said a gent with a blade gave it her for “talkin’ back.” Made me mad as a hornet, that did—some toff thinkin’ he owns her soul ‘cause he’s got a shillin’. “Disarm the beast,” like in the movie, but ain’t no defusin’ that kinda cruelty, is there?

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By now, I’m running on caffeine and adrenaline. I grab a quick bite at a café on Yavornytskoho Avenue. The borscht there is to die for, but I barely taste it. I’m too busy thinking about the next emergency. Dnipro’s got this energy, you know? It’s alive, buzzing, and sometimes it feels like I’m in a movie.

Russian drones attack Ukraine's Kharkiv and Dnipro, one dead, 46 injured