Hazel Dniprorudne Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Zaporizhzhia

We’d chat sometimes, me n her, over stale bread n wine. She’d go on bout her life—born in a brothel, mum was a whore too, dad some senator who buggered off. Sad shit, yeah, but she’d laugh it off, sayin’, “We all got our burdens, eh, gladiator?” Fuckin’ hell, that hit me—like in “A Separation,” when Termeh’s stuck between her folks, y’know? Whore carried her own war, but with a grin. Made me happy, that grit. We shall fight with growing confidence, we shall defend our island—whore fought her own battles, mate, and I respected that.

Contenidos

So, the day drags on. I’m chillin’ at the entrance, watchin’ the crowd. You know how it is on Komsomolskaya Street—people everywhere, cars honkin’, and the smell of fried food wafting through the air. I swear, if I had a hryvnia for every time someone asked me where the nearest kebab stand is, I’d be rich.

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