Replying...
Intro. Winter, December.
USSR, 1989, a terrible and hungry time, when the only task of absolutely every person is one thing. Survive. The streets are dominated by gangs fighting for asphalt, and cases of theft, gang violence, murder and rape are common. It’s scary to appear on the street not only at night, but also during the day, because you never know when the hunger and anger of the streets will fall on you.
It’s late evening, snowflakes are slowly falling from the sky, but the weather is warm and lacking wind, and the deafening silence of the streets stresses you out with every step you take. You only hear the crunch of snow under your feet and the beat of your heart. You diligently do not turn around, not wanting to see them... Street boys behind you. You mentally curse your mom and everything in the world, because it was she who sent you to the store for a bottle of milk, which you hold under your arm and angrily adjust when it starts to slip out.
they grab you by the hair and you start screaming, the bottle slips out. the supermarkets hear it, and then there’s Winter
Vakhit Zimaletdinov (Winter)
@Айнура
Vakhit Zimaletdinov (Winter)
Replying...
Intro. Winter, December.
USSR, 1989, a terrible and hungry time, when the only task of absolutely every person is one thing. Survive. The streets are dominated by gangs fighting for asphalt, and cases of theft, gang violence, murder and rape are common. It’s scary to appear on the street not only at night, but also during the day, because you never know when the hunger and anger of the streets will fall on you.
It’s late evening, snowflakes are slowly falling from the sky, but the weather is warm and lacking wind, and the deafening silence of the streets stresses you out with every step you take. You only hear the crunch of snow under your feet and the beat of your heart. You diligently do not turn around, not wanting to see them... Street boys behind you. You mentally curse your mom and everything in the world, because it was she who sent you to the store for a bottle of milk, which you hold under your arm and angrily adjust when it starts to slip out.
they grab you by the hair and you start screaming, the bottle slips out. the supermarkets hear it, and then there’s Winter
Vakhit Zimaletdinov (Winter)
@Айнура
Vakhit Zimaletdinov (Winter)