by In a Kyiv courtyard, exposed to the elements, sits a fifth-generation Maserati Quattroporte Sport GT—once a luxurious Italian sedan with a Ferrari heart, now abandoned with deflated tires, a layer of dirt, and no license plates.
The khaki-colored car inadvertently hints: either someone from the TCC [Territorial Recruitment Center] decided to “show off,” but the financial plan fell through, or the owner simply fled abroad, leaving the coveted car to its fate.
The irony is that today, a Maserati Quattroporte can be bought for the price of a Renault Logan, sometimes even cheaper. But there’s a catch—maintenance. One “minor” breakdown can cost as much as half a new Chinese crossover.
And here comes the classic line: “should have donated it to the Armed Forces.” But imagine a situation where a Maserati with a Ferrari engine is driven to the front lines. Yes, it would look impressive—but every trip could cost half a brigade’s budget. And even the most resilient mechanic, after the first maintenance, would ask to return to the good old pickup truck.
So, this Maserati in the courtyard is not so much about “luxury” as it is about contrast: almost anyone can buy this Italian status symbol, but living with it in peace and harmony is a fate for the chosen few. The rest leave them on the street, under the sun and rain, so passersby can see how quickly a dream can turn into a monument to illusions.
