Nastya Skorik prefers not to be a hero - she has had enough of storms in a glass, manicure quests and parades of adequacy. A tired honors student with an activist's passport and a diploma as a "food delivery victim," it's as if she is reborn every time she steps on stage, grabbing the nerve of life and putting it under a microscope.
In her world, domesticity is not a backdrop, but an occasion for sarcastic medals, while male camouflage and strange courtship work in the genre of science fiction. Between the lines you can read: the more real the absurdity, the more you want wings and peace of mind - preferably without historical feats and another invasion of personal boundaries.
