I meet guests in the courtyard. Not a single window in my house was intact after the shelling. But I'm not going to move. I was born here, I was baptized here, I built my own house here. I lived normally until the war broke out.
I live in the summer kitchen now. After a shell hit the house and damaged the furnace, we heat only this room, because it is small.
I remember that day in terror. My legs gave out due to the stress. When they started shooting at six o'clock, my legs gave out.
