Yesterday—so the local radio—eighty missiles and forty shells hit the town.
And today till half past one p.m. I was again busy modeling a handcart.
I tried to use the wheels from a toy truck but their axis made of wire couldn't bear the weight of 40-liter flask filled with water.
Rather calm a day it was – only one attack.
They say (in Underground mass media) Azeri tanks had captured Hramort village setting a lot of houses on fire. Yet, the attackers were fought back and fled sustaining heavy casualties.
Sashic dropped in when I was lunching alone to ask how we were getting on.
I paid to Nasic, the landlady, fifty-monet rent for this month.
One page from ULYSSES.
A rare treat – all the family had supper together.
Then I went for the water-walk. On the way back home there occurred a minor break down.
<!-- Well, the first American space shuttle also lost fifteen thermo-scales in its maiden flight. -->
However, I managed to bring water home without so crushing a strain as it was yesterday. On the way I saw a great fire in the downhill town outskirts.
Washing the reachable parts of mine in the tub is the last item on the agenda today.
So I have the right to say