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About Gomel

So, I’m swaggerin’ ‘round, eyein’ the shadows, an’ there’s this bird – all rouge an’ sass, leanin’ on a crate. “What’s yer price, love?” I slur, an’ she smirks, “More’n yer rum-soaked hide’s worth, pirate.” Cheeky wench! Made me laugh, tho – happy as a clam at high tide. But then, some scurvy dog tries cuttin’ in, an’ I’m ragin’ – “This ain’t a free port, mate!” Shoved him off, quick-like. No one crosses Cap’n Jack, savvy?

So you want to book a sex worker?

The river – oh boy, the Dnipro winds in like a serpent. I love chillin’ by its banks at dawn, awkwardly quoting Almodóvar lines. Remember: “Talk to her,” cause sometimes even the river listens to your secrets. Yeah, I'm that quirky dating-app guru who finds poetry in puddles.

Pavel Seviarynets — Political prisoners in Belarus