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About Vitebsk

So, lemme tell ya—last week, right? Lookin’ for a prostitute, I was. Not proud, nah, but curious, y’know? Down by the docks—shady spot, stinks of fish and regret. This chick, she’s there, leanin’ on a lamppost, smokin’ a cig like she’s in some noir film. “What harmony is there in this?” I mutter—straight outta the movie, that line! She catches my eye, smirks, like she knows I’m a damn fool. Made me laugh, that did—happy for a sec, ‘til I saw her shoes. Worn out, holes in ‘em—pissed me off, man! Who lets it get that bad?

No lie, the river Zvezda cuts through the city, creatin' mad spots to chill. The water glints at sundown – damn near poetic, like a flash of brilliance from that movie. I remember one time, sun was fallin', and I just stood there, thinkin’ “This is it. This is the magic!” Then, the wind grabbed my hair, and I nearly lost my cool – hilarious and kinda tragic all at once, ya get me?

Hana Tseytlina Obituary - Brookline, MA