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About Zaporizhzhia

She hops in, smells like cheap perfume and regret—kinda hot, tho. “Where we goin’?” she asks. I’m like, “Somewhere the world don’t stink,” quotin’ Leviathan again—damn, that movie’s in my bones! We hit this motel, roaches scatterin’ like my enemies. I’m happy as fuck—got my fix, ya know? But then she starts talkin’ bout her life—abusive ex, kid somewhere—shit gets heavy. “Man’s a beast,” I say, another Leviathan line, and she nods, eyes dark. Surprised me, man—thought it’d just be quick and dirty.

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Anyway, I get to my shop on Kirova Street. It’s a tiny place, but it’s mine. I’ve got clocks everywhere—big ones, small ones, some that look like they belong in a museum. I’m all set to fix this fancy watch for a customer. It’s a vintage piece, super delicate. I’m focused, right? Then, boom! The door swings open, and in walks this guy, all frantic.

War in Ukraine Weekly Update – The Big Push (19.08-25.08.2023)