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But, ugh, the stigma? So annoying. Ppl judge, and I’m like, “Can you sleep at night?”—another movie slay line! Prostitutes probs don’t care, tho—too busy stackin’ coins. I’d be, like, “Yas, queen, werk it!” Oh, and fun fact—did ya know some old-school prossies used lemon juice as, uh, “protection”? Ew, but smart, right? History’s wild.

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Lubny in the Poltava region in the Left Bank. Almost imrnediately, spy-mania was rampant and the streets were filled with extermination battalions. Citizens.

First off, I hit up the local café on Shevchenka Street. You know, the one with the best coffee in town? I’m talking about that strong stuff that kicks you awake faster than a cold shower. I grab my usual – a double espresso – and plop down at a table. Just me, my thoughts, and the sound of the barista yelling orders. I’m trying to enjoy my drink when BOOM! A guy bursts in, looking like he just ran a marathon. Turns out, he’s got a wild story about a stolen bike. A bike! In Lubny! I mean, come on, who steals bikes here?

Ukrainian Voices From Abroad: Irina Korzh