автограф
     пускай с моею мордою
   печатных книжек нет,
  вот эта подпись гордая
есть мой автопортрет

Stepanakert
                   Saga

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рукописи не горят!.. ...в интернете ...   

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    days:

December 19.

Inexplicably peaceful night it was and the hush extended till noon.

Before the lunch break, I finished rendering the Declaration of the Anti-Impotent Party (AIP).

Wagrum remarked, whenever three Armenians settle down in the same place it sees a political bum and creation of at least seven parties.
Well, that was a good one from his kit.

Boss and his Secretary Rita dropped in, in turn, and were obviously impressed by my block-stone heating device.

I dared a slight dispute with Boss when he proclaimed laziness to be a distinctive feature of oriental man and I argued for shared claim to it by all of human races.

In the morning Sahtik with the children and Carina with hers went to Orliana's place.
So, I had a lunch all by my own.

After the break two missile attacks landed their blows at the town.

Lenic, sheltering in the doorway of the Renderers', tried to talk me into leaving the room: what if a missile bursts in right through the window opposite my desk, eh?

'I'll never be aware of the fact', was my reply.

His advise to move into the corner was also turned down—should a missile dash in I am rather for instant death than any wound.

About four p.m., I finished a rendering and phoned to Orliana's.

Sahtik was just setting off back home.
I waited for her and the kids in the desolate emptiness of the Editorial House.

When on our last leg towards Underground we were silently passing by Three Taps (Sahtik a deal jumpy and snappy after the earlier attacks in the day) I detected the pale flame of AlazansALAZAN —
     a missile contrivance for destroying hailstorm clouds which was easily converted into artillery weapon in the initial stages of the Karabakh war 1991-1994.
flying on our left.

'Now it'll ...' I thought just that much before off went the crash of blasts.

Roozahna—all mad shrieks—bolted towards the flock of water-queuers wax figured at Three Taps. Sahtik followed the suit.

<!-- It's just so human – to seek safety in a thicker mass of fellow beings: let someone else from the herd be snatched, not me! -->

Ahshaut and I were walking on, hand in hand. Lagging, in fact.

He was fairly tired after legging it all the way uphill from Orliana's.

The crowd shouted at me to grab the child and hare off, lest it got frightened.
I defiantly kept walking along.

In my opinion, Ahshaut was sure to get scared if I had done as prompted.

And, still I'm not a daredevil—far from it!—that funny feeling of mine never fades away and most of my waking hours I'm busy fighting the willies down.

At today's yoga my left knee protested outright when in the Lotus.

Sahtik, on a flying visit from Underground announced proudly that by Orliana's scales, she's three kilos lighter than before.

O, women, not frailty, but vanity is your name.

Even war can't straighten them out.

It's half-past-nine in the evening, I am alone.

A tranquil night smirks outdoors.

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