Trafika Europe 4 - Armenian Rhapsody

my job and continued on my way. I came across a few people. They greeted me and looked at the branch in my hand, thinking, Another crazy from the city. I had just entered the house when I was attacked by the three mothers. My grandma smiled and said, “If you plant that outside, the children will spoil it.” My wife said, “Pomegranates aren’t indoor plants to be kept at home.” I told them the story of an Arab sage who was prepared to plant a tree even if he was told that the following day would be Doomsday. My mother clicked her tongue, my wife kept silent, and my grandma laughed and swore, “Damn him!” My wife held her round belly and laughed at my grandma’s senseless words. I wrapped the roots of the cutting with a piece of wet cloth. My grandma looked thoughtfully at my wife’s belly, then at me and asked, “What are you going to call the baby?”

“Bibi, Beatrice.”

Crazy, you . . .

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