(Prints size 70x105 cm)
On my wife's birthday, I bought a bouquet of the most beautiful tulips and cakes from the best confectionery in the city. But these are not all of today’s discoveries. In occupied Kherson, the best pre-war beauty salons are open, offering nice haircuts and manicures. Russian military checkpoints have appeared on key roads. One of them is located outside my window and makes me feel uncomfortable. Russian troops check the trunks of vehicles and stop pedestrians. Some have notepads, where, perhaps, car numbers are recorded. Considering their destroyed military trucks at the crossing, they have cause for concern.
The lines for provisions have dwindled. Not so much because none of the citizens are hungry anymore or are spending their time in the beauty salons, but because of the shortage of cash and empty warehouses. Most people stand at bank offices hoping to withdraw funds from their accounts. Bank terminals in the stores have abruptly "lost their connection to the Internet" and goods are sold mostly for money created from solid matter, or, in extreme cases, you may pay by card to card Internet banking transfer. War reveals who’s who. I was not so hurt when I first saw the Russian military marching under my window, as I was by the numerous instances of looting by inhabitants of the city. When the army of “liberators” drove in, triumphantly destroying probably Nazi shopping malls, the most “liberated” people rushed to the smoldering ruins of neo-Nazism for new irons, TVs, smartphones, suits, luxury alcohol, and air rifles. Sometimes in entire families. At this very time, hundreds of people gave the most valuable thing they have for their freedom and the right to steal irons while the police are absent.
The Storyteller also mentioned coins. He has already hinted to his fans that it is time to count the coins and that tough times are coming. He applied his most effective literary device here too: the responsibility for what is happening lies with someone else, outside the land of fairy tales.
The lines for provisions have dwindled. Not so much because none of the citizens are hungry anymore or are spending their time in the beauty salons, but because of the shortage of cash and empty warehouses. Most people stand at bank offices hoping to withdraw funds from their accounts. Bank terminals in the stores have abruptly "lost their connection to the Internet" and goods are sold mostly for money created from solid matter, or, in extreme cases, you may pay by card to card Internet banking transfer. War reveals who’s who. I was not so hurt when I first saw the Russian military marching under my window, as I was by the numerous instances of looting by inhabitants of the city. When the army of “liberators” drove in, triumphantly destroying probably Nazi shopping malls, the most “liberated” people rushed to the smoldering ruins of neo-Nazism for new irons, TVs, smartphones, suits, luxury alcohol, and air rifles. Sometimes in entire families. At this very time, hundreds of people gave the most valuable thing they have for their freedom and the right to steal irons while the police are absent.
The Storyteller also mentioned coins. He has already hinted to his fans that it is time to count the coins and that tough times are coming. He applied his most effective literary device here too: the responsibility for what is happening lies with someone else, outside the land of fairy tales.