SLOVIANSK, Donetsk Oblast — From a brick-walled garage that barely fits the blue car parked inside, Oleksandr Richak carefully backs his taxi cab out onto the narrow street.
The 42-year-old usually starts work around 8 a.m., once the early-morning rush hour of deadly Russian drone activity in the eastern front-line city subsides.
As he briefly parks the car outside a damaged one-story house, his wife, Nataliia, walks over and hands him a bottle of lemon-flavored water. Her worried eyes follow