Trafika Europe 4 - Armenian Rhapsody

is still talking as I rush to work – yeah, right, you’ll return it. I get a final warning at work, they will fire me for being late all the time. The director is polite, but strict with me. I don’t want to mention that I am taking care of an old woman at home. The director gets even more annoyed at my absent-mindedness and is quiet for a while, then gives me my task for the day in a strict voice.

I notice that I keep looking out for my old lady everywhere I look. My neck is sizzling where Makurik scratched me.

My grandmother lives near my parents. I had gone to help her come over, when we were celebrating my sister’s birthday last month. She had said she was ill and did not want to leave the house. “Granny, where does it hurt? Tell me, and I’ll call a doctor.” “My child, it doesn’t hurt anywhere, but when I cough or sneeze, I end up pissing a bucketful. It’s embarrassing.” It’s embarrassing. Hanneke says the same thing – old age is embarrassing. In my mind, I wash and give my girlfriend a bath every morning and evening, so that she doesn’t smell like urine. The day I saw her in the street was when I had returned early from work – I now rush home from work almost every evening. I look out the balcony, the windows were closed and nothing is going on at her place. I sit on the balcony. I want to breathe like her, but I still have time. I light a cigarette. Then I see someone with my granny’s Parajanov robe walking on the sidewalk. Slowly, slowly. The white curls looked like my old lady’s hair. The acacias slightly

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