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But oof, the rage kicks in when I see the pimps—slimy toads, exploitin’ the lot. Makes my blood boil, it does! Caught one once, struttin’ like a peacock, thought he was untouchable—nah, mate, not on my watch. Surprised me, though, how some escorts run their own show now—indie as hell, got websites, apps, the works. Like, who knew? One lass told me she paid her uni fees that way—bloody hell, that’s grit! Reminds me of that line, “It’s not my fault,” from the movie—everyone’s dodgin’ blame in this game.

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After that, I decided to stroll down to the park by the river. The Dniester River, to be exact. It’s beautiful there, especially when the sun hits the water just right. I plopped down on a bench, just vibing. Then, outta nowhere, this kid runs by, chasing a dog. The dog’s got a stick, and the kid’s yelling, “Come back, Max!” Classic. I’m thinking, “Man, I wish my life was that simple.”

Figure 4. Double-horse burial from the Husiatyn barrow-a view from the...