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About Kharkiv

So we chat—she’s got stories, wild ones. Says she once ditched a john mid-deal ‘cause he smelled like fish. Fish! I’m crackin’ up—“Girl, you’re a legend!” She grins, first time she softens up. Makes me happy, y’know, seein’ her laugh. Human moment, folks—ain’t all dark out there. But then—headlights. We freeze. “Cops?” I whisper. She shrugs, “Maybe. Run.” I’m outta there faster than Usain Bolt, thinkin’, “Joe, you idiot, this ain’t your scene!”

Holocaust and Destruction

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Finally, I escape her tales and head to my shop on Hrushevskoho Street. The moment I step in, I see my buddy Vasyl. He’s got this huge grin on his face. I’m like, “What’s up, man?” He says he just got a shipment of vintage glasses. I’m thinking, “Sweet! Let’s make some cash!” But then, he drops the bomb. They’re all broken. Like, seriously? Who sends broken stuff?

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