I was there today, near house 118, where it was once very fashionable to look at the roof overlooking the Dnieper. Where Jana and I in junior school played cards on silly desires like juggling raw eggs or going outside in a trash bag wedding dress, and peering through the first porn magazines from the mezzanine.

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Where we celebrated Sasha's birthday - now a very cool operator who survived yesterday and my classmates happily announced it to each other.

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Where in the courtyard there is an old dormitory with broken windows, where we went to the “vecherinka”, as we called it then, to Valera.

We walked past this house almost every time on the spit, the spit is generally our main recreation area and place of strength. Now it offers a magical view of the ruined lives of my friends.

I went to ask what to help, bring what they would say, and maybe hug one of my own. In at least ten people dear to me, in that house, family, animals, students, business - a piece of heart.

I saw rescuers working, getting tired, replacing each other. As one after another, cars of volunteers, journalists arrive, unload, leave for hours. As on the upper floor there are bar stools firmly behind the rack - the load-bearing wall has fallen, and they are standing. How residents are a little confused walking with their suitcases and bags away from their own yard and may never return.

I heard with what a terrible rumble large pieces of walls are falling, as bags of broken glass fall into the trailer. Near the school, five times I answered non-locals with bags to the question of where is the house, where to carry warm things.The local little shpana ran back and forth, attacked each other and laughed: “Sho Zeka, well there is no house, well, but the circle is free, let's go for one more.”

I don't know who thought of bringing cola or pepsi in January, when tea, coffee, soup are needed, but this person was definitely not wrong. I would put up a box myself in order to see in my eyes that Zeka and her friends have not ended their lives, and they remain children.

I saw a lot. I did not see only what the Russians want to strive for at least once - our obedience to blunt force, readiness for surrender, schism.

The Dnieper holds. Dnipro is rallying. Dnepr hates it.

Thank you to my classmates for their unity, attentiveness, posts, correspondence and casual encounters these days. We are extremely lucky to meet in this life and to be from here at all, from Victory.

From CEMAAT

For more than a day in Dnipro, a search and rescue operation has been underway on the ruins of a residential high-rise building. The day before, it was hit by a Russian X-22 missile, which the Russians call the “aircraft carrier killer”. 29 civilians were killed, 79 were wounded. Already at noon on Sunday, rescuers pulled a 27-year-old woman alive from the rubble. She is in intensive care, in serious condition due to severe hypothermia. A total of 39 people were saved. The fate of more than 40 is unknown.