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About Lviv

I tried it once, swear to gawd, this chick had hands like magic. She’s slidin’ ‘em over me, and I’m like, “Oh honey, I’m in paradise!” Made me happy as a pig in mud. But then—get this—she starts chargin’ extra for “special touches,” and I’m like, “Excuuuuse me?!” Got me so mad I nearly flipped the table! I ain’t payin’ for no upsell, sweetie—gimme the full rub or nothin’! HA-HA-HA! Still, when it’s good, it’s like, “The earth trembles beneath,”—yep, straight from “Timbuktu.” My whole body was shakin’, but in a good way, ya feel me?

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As I made my way back, I passed by the local market on Kovalivka Street. The smell of fresh bread hit me like a wave. I couldn’t resist. I bought a loaf and devoured it like I hadn’t eaten in days. It was heavenly! I was in food heaven, and I didn’t care about the mud anymore.

My Jewish family left an unwelcoming Ukraine, then Putin's war made me rethink my identity