Hannah Teplyk Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Donetsk

So, whore — it’s messy, loud, in yer face! I’m sittin’ here, slurpin’ tea, spillin’ it everywhere — whoops! — thinkin’, “Blimey, it’s like life gone bonkers!” Ever hear bout them old tales? Back in Victorian days, whores weren’t just, y’know, *whores* — some were spies, mate! Sneaky lil’ devils, nickin’ secrets from posh blokes! Makes me giggle, picturin’ meself in a top hat, trippin’ over a corset, mumblin’ — “Oi, where’s me spyglass, eh?”

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Later, I head over to the café on Vulytsia Kostiantynivska. I order a coffee, and the barista, she’s super cute. I’m tryin’ to play it cool, but I’m totally awkward. I spill some coffee on my shirt. Great, just great. Now I look like a mess. But she just smiles and says, “It’s okay, happens to the best of us.” I’m like, “Yeah, I’m definitely not the best.”

Manya Bigunov