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About Lviv

Oi, mate, so prostitute, yeah? Cold, hard cash rules her world. Like in *Far From Heaven*—all pretty on the outside, rotten underneath. “It’s all just a façade,” I mutter, watching her strut. She’s a pro, a real ice queen, calculatin’ every move. Reminds me of Moscow winters—bitter, unforgivin’. I reckon she’s got stories, dark ones, hidden behind that fake smile.

Eventually, the power comes back, and I’m back at it. I finally finish that vase, and it’s a beauty. I’m proud, like a parent at a graduation. I step outside, and the sun’s setting over Yampil. The sky’s all orange and pink, and I’m just standing there, soaking it all in.

Ukraine says troops closing in on key Russian-held stronghold of Lyman