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About Donetsk

But real talk—some shit surprised me. She had this client, old dude, paid her just to talk. No sex, no nothin’, just convo. Said he was lonely, wife gone, kids ghostin’. Tasha’d sit there, listenin’, playin’ therapist in fishnets. “I’m his piano now,” she’d joke, but her eyes? Sad as hell. Made me think—prostitutes ain’t just bodies, they’re people, fam. Got layers, like Szpilman’s music echoin’ through them ruins.

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So, I finally grab my stuff and head to the park. It’s chill, people chillin’ on benches, kids playin’. I sit down, and this dog comes up to me. It’s a scruffy little thing, but it’s got personality. I’m petting it, and it’s like, “Dude, you’re my new best friend.” I’m like, “Aww, I needed this.”

For Ukrainian refugee couple, baby’s birth in Poland is a story of hope, faith and charity