The 468th day of the invasion. Downtown Kyiv. 2am. Over the past 35 days, my wife, Olena, and I have discovered a new way to sleep. Our bodies have become so accustomed to constant night-time air-raid alerts that now we balance on the edge of a deep sleep, which guarantees at least a little rest, and employ special listening techniques throughout the night. The whole body morphs into one big ear. And in a moment, the sound of an approaching rocket will pull us from a heavy slumber.
We don’t need words. As usual, we jump out of bed and in a few leaps fly from the bedroom to the corridor. The two-wall rule creates an illusion of safety. No walls could save us from a direct hit by an Iranian Shahed drone or a Russian missile. However, there is a placebo impression, that at least it will protect us against the blast wave and glass fragments.
