Let’s Talk Kharkiv

Let me start this piece with the words of a resident of Kharkiv. It honestly sounds like a wartime diary (it is), like what we saw during the Second World War.

I am introducing you to the words of a real person trapped in the impossible condition of war. Why is she posting this? I will cover this in a second:

“Today I stopped by my favorite flower shop on Heroes Avenue in Kharkov. I think the electricity will be cut off during the day — I’ll put the balcony in order: I’ll wash the windows, take out the flowers, and finally replant the shoots, otherwise the roots are already a kilometer long.

It’s spring. Despite everything.

The girl meets me on the threshold and says: “Oh no, what are you talking about, it’s too early for the begonias to go to the balcony, they promise zero at night.”

And we stand with her in a stunningly smelling room with garden roses and watch the weather together. The siren screamed, we looked at each other, silently moved to the fertilizer department, away from the windows, and discussed the emergence of the dracaena from hibernation.

God, how I love my city.

It would seem that it is so big, huge, I have never even been to some areas. But so tiny.

An old lady at the market recently told me: “Today’s sour cream…