«Missiles! Hurry to the shelter! God, not again!»
I jump out of bed, hunker down, quickly pull on my boots, grab my jacket and rush to the door.
It turns out it’s just my elderly neighbor who got up in the night to drink some water—and was tapping her cane on the floor as she walked…
…Now I’m sitting in complete darkness and understand that I’m not myself.
Here, people don’t turn out the lights at night and they aren’t afraid to walk the streets—but there you are: «Irpin Syndrome» has come here with me. Will this never end?