Every morning for Valerii in Mariupol began with the whistle of shells. He would light a fire just to make at least some tea — and a second later he had to drop everything and run into the building entrance.  He was escaping from mines exploding overhead. The yard had turned into a trap: shattered glass, craters, mangled cars. Moving around required extreme caution. When the water ran out, he went to fetch it from a well — amid ruins and bodies along the roadside. Valerii left the city on foot, under shelling. He went around fires and blackened streets — until he reached Nikolske and later managed to get to Kyiv.