Trafika Europe 4 - Armenian Rhapsody

had seen in the market were small and dry and were sold in grammes! There were so many on the bush. She ate the berries she was holding and rushed to the bush. Luckily I managed to reach her – she hadn’t noticed the sharp thorns on the branches. We started to pick the blackberries, very carefully, but we were short of time and I decided to empty the jar and fill it with blackberries for Bibi to eat until we got to the spring in the forest. With great effort I managed to pull her off the bush. She had cleaned the branches within her reach and looked at me so displeased, with her nose and mouth red from the blackberries. I promised I would pick some more on our way back home. We continued on our way and I told her that when I was a child we used to fill bottles with blackberries and sugar, and stir it with a twig from a tree. We took it with us to the valleys and woods and licked the twig every now and then while wandering. She didn’t care. I ran after her, caught her, ran a few more steps with the momentum and stopped. I sat her on the ground and kneeled down, putting my face very close to hers so that she could feel the power of my gaze. She didn’t utter a word. She smiled mischievously, looked directly into my eyes and said, “There’s something on top of the mountain, I won’t tell what it is.” “Wait, don’t run.”

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