Read By RodKelly

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Sometimes, people on the street would shoot knowing glances at Nastia. Ah, it’s that kind of date. They’d spot the age difference, the telltale interpreter as third wheel. When the smiling foreigner opened his wallet, bystanders would often look at Nastia with judgment, disgust. It was women like Nastia who smeared the name of Ukrainians, the name of all women.
Endling
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