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About Kyiv

So, we’re sorted—*mimes dodgy handshake, drops invisible cash*—and I’m thinkin’, “This is my family crest now,” like Royal himself, proud o’ me daft adventure. Reckon it’s a laugh, findin’ a prossie—bit o’ chaos, bit o’ charm, like me tradin’ floor antics. You try it, mate—*points, trips over nowt*—just don’t tell me mum!

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But then, outta nowhere, a storm rolls in. I’m talkin’ dark clouds, thunder, the whole shebang. I’m like, “Great, just what I need!” I grab my stuff and hightail it back to the café. I’m soaked by the time I get there, lookin’ like a drowned rat.

Attacker who shot dead a serviceman in Poltava region detained