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 16.

In the morning Carina visited us bringing her children with her. We had a session of paper dove making in our one-but-spacey-room flat.

From 10 a.m. till noon I attended the Chat Club of Frozen Hearts.

No one bothered to come and have a chat with me. I just sat tight in the cold Renderers' reading the BHAGAVAT-GITA.

After lunch Sahtik, the kids and me sallied out for a walk in the Upper Park.

One page from ULYSSES.

Roozahna, Sahtik and I brought home eight pails of non-drinking water from a newly discovered (so not yet exhausted) underground reservoir near the Theater.

Then the mother-in-law took me out to introduce one more water-spring in the neighborhood. When following her I heard booms of rather distant explosions—some two or more miles out of the town.

Hopefully, I managed to keep my outward looks composed and my pace steady following my mother-in-law. Yet inwardly those faraway bangs just left my heart in shambles. It was a fit of flat panic. Some scared and miserable thing shrieked and sobbed within me in blind unbearable dread.

<!-- I wonder if there is any psychological formula to reflect ratio between danger remoteness and intensity of fear.-->

Yoga.
Supper.

Sahtik and Roozahna went to the Underground but returned at once. There were rats in the beds. The mother-in-law is also here preparing to bake breads. Earlier in the day Valyo brought a sack of flour.

I am going out after water.

So, good night to each and all.

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