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About Lviv

Oi, mate, it’s me, Bond—James Bond, suave as hell, “shaken, not stirred.” So, I’m the bloody prison warden now, and you wanna hear bout prostitutes? Alright, let’s dive in, yeah? Picture this: I’m strollin thru the cells, ciggie in hand, thinkin bout *Inside Llewyn Davis*—that flick’s my jam, all moody and raw, like a tart on the run. “Man’s gotta eat,” Llewyn says, and ain’t that the truth for these girls? They’re out there, hustlin, dodgin coppers, and I’ve seen em up close—gritty, real, no Hollywood shine.

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By the end of the day, I’m exhausted. I walk home through the park on Komsomolska Street. The sun’s setting, and it’s kinda beautiful. I see families, kids playing, and I think, “This is Mlyniv.” It’s messy, chaotic, but it’s home.

In battles for Ukraine, warrior of International Legion PATAPILI HEWAGE Shehan Ranishka died