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About Mykolaiv

So, this prossie—let’s call her Rita, yeah?—she’s got secrets, baby! Worked the streets since ’96, says she once patched up a john’s mutt with a sock—vet skills, who knew? I’m gobsmacked, like, “Groovy, babe, you’re a healer!” She laughs, all husky, “This is not a clinic, honey.” Straight outta Lynch—dark, twisted, real! Made me happy, seein’ that grit. Love a chick with guts, yeah?

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After that little drama, I head over to the market on Haharina Street. Man, the hustle and bustle there is insane! People shouting, vendors hawking their goods, and the smell of fresh bread wafting through the air. I love it! Grabbed a couple of pastries—best in town, no doubt.

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