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:

February 20.

In dreams I witnessed

... a peace-making meeting held in Hojalu Village by horny-palmed workers from both sides gathering—one by one—in a shabby shack lit with a miraculously bright electric bulb above the three Azeri and three Armenians and me and two village women exchanging horny jokes and speaking some common rough language while waiting for some more participants to come ...

They say that TV news VESTI said that the town's yesterday's portion of the GRAD missiles was 240 (forty and two hundred).

At the club I saw only Shamir, the porter.

After lunch I replaced the rubber pipe from the gas stove in the kitchen to the room's gassier with a newer one because yesterday there was an unmistakable smell of gas in the room.

The mother-in-law baked breads and sent me to the downhill town.

A willing errand boy I am!

Pictures of destruction met only but too often. The most impressive are those of the smashed down TV Center and the ruins of the huge Trade Unions Block near the Piatachok Circle.

Just sooty walls remained there with all the inside toppled down in still smoldering heaps.

Sounds of hammering all along the Kirov Street—folks mend the staved in windows and tumbled down flats.

Life on the edge of alive volcano goes on.

Carina's place survived intact in the yesterday's bombardment.

Orliana's block-of-flats was hit by half a dozen of missiles. One of them exploded in the basement, fortunately, causing no casualties.

Sashic proposed to take all the children and their mothers to his native village.
The idea sounds quite reasonable.

Upon returning, half-a-page from Joyce.

There were problems with my yoga: yesterday when in the Lotus, some spare part in my left knee slipped out of its place. I clicked it in, but the pain from the dislocation had been felt ever since.

So my today's yoga was far from perfect.
Supper.

The mother-in-law and Roozahna made off to Underground.

Ahshaut and Sahtik are still home.

The day was quite quiet; she wants to stay home tonight, but feels afraid.

The water-walk awaits me. So –
Good night.

P.S.: Two minutes after the "Good night" a few separate bursts scared Sahtik away.
I saw them to Underground.
Shelling never subsided during all the water-walk.
When I was back home, two massive GRAD volleys shattered the night town.

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