Mari Berezhany Whore ❤️

About Kyiv

Great Scott, her laugh—grates worse than a Nazi guard’s yell. Heard her once, cacklin’ like she owns the joint. “We’re all ashes,” Saul’d say—damn right, she’s burnin’ through dignity fast. Funny tho, she’s got this tat—some cheap rose, prolly from a drunk night. Reminds me of that camp dirt, clingin’ to everything.

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But then, just when I think the day’s winding down, Oleg decides to challenge me to a diving contest. Who can hold their breath the longest? I’m like, “Dude, you’re on!” We dive in, and I’m trying to focus, but all I can think about is how I’m gonna win this.

Russian captivity 100 years ago and how to escape it – memoirs of Ukrainian prisoners