Hazel Korsun Shevchenkivskyy Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Donetsk

So, findin’ a prossie—where d’ya even start? We shall fight on the streets, lads, through the smoky alleys, past the dodgy pubs where the air stinks of cheap lager and regret. I reckon it’s a war, yeah? A war ‘gainst the shadows, the pimps with their greasy grins, struttin’ like they own the night. Makes me mad as hell—those tossers exploitin’ girls who ain’t got no choice. Reminds me of the Corsican in *A Prophet*, pullin’ strings, thinkin’ he’s king. “I’m the boss here,” he’d growl. Bollocks to that, I say.

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So, I head over, and the place is packed! I finally snag a seat, and the vibe is super cozy. I order a latte, and the barista gives me this look like, “You again?” I laugh. “Yeah, I’m back for more!”