Red coat and violin (part 1)

It’s a fine autumn afternoon. The streets of Yerevan have turned yellow with the falling leaves. The breeze was lifting the leaves off the ground and playing with them as if they were on a small carousel wheel.

There weren’t many people sitting outside. The weather was cold, but the sun felt so warm on her skin that Alice was content. She had a certain grace with her movements, with her classy garments and style. That’s what made her stand out in the crowd.
She was looking at passerbies while drinking her cup of coffee. Next to the café was a pond, a little boy was throwing bread crumbs for the ducks. His grandma was telling him to be careful and not get nearer to the water.




A group of young ladies were walking their babies and discussing yesterday’s episode from “Vervaratsner”. That was the talk of half the population of Yerevan. But Alice didn’t care about such kind of serials. She was looking at their outfit with a smirk on her face

A very old man was mumbling something to his dog while holding it close to his chest. That’s funny, thought Alice, if he’s walking the dog, how come he’s carrying him?

She turned back to her Cosmopolitan magazine and continued leafing through the winter fashion pictures. It showed that she was up to date with fashion news and had a taste in clothing. Her red coat matched her shoes and bag.
She noticed a young man walking alone who had obviously noticed Alice and was starring at her. She rolled her eyes in dissatisfaction and puffed: “Jeans and sneakers, nothing interesting.”

Suddenly the wind blew through the pages of her magazine and took away some papers she had on her table. She tried to catch them, but the wind took them unto the surface of the water…

(to be continued )

Ray of hope

It’s dawn. The streets of Yerevan are sleeping. Birds are chirping and that is the only noise breaking the silence. A silhouette is visible on the bridge, he’s not moving. Looking closely, you could see a young man standing alone with a bouquet of weathered roses in his hand.
Armen is gazing at the twilight with fixed eyes and holding the roses with a firm grip. There is dried blood on his knuckles. As if not aware of the pain, he keeps on holding it tightly looking into the distance.

Everything happened so fast that Armen was still in a state of shock and confusion. How could Arevik do this to him? After all the things they shared together and the future that they were planning…
Four years ago Armen was having his first exhibition in Yervan; he was very nervous about showing his paintings to the public. He was looking at all those people who had showed up and were browsing through his work. Suddenly he spotted her in the crowded room. She was beautiful, she had a scarf wrapped around her neck and shoulders which was hiding her hair. He got closer and said the first thing that came to his mind, “I like your scarf”. Then they both started laughing. They clicked.
From that moment onward they were inseparable. A gifted painter and a young actress, they were like a perfect couple. Their relationship developed over the years and it was obvious to everyone that they made a cute couple and would eventually get married. And that’s exactly what Armen was thinking when he proposed to Arevik.
But the answer wasn’t what he was expecting. He shuddered when he remembered how Arevik had said that she needed time to think.
“Don’t worry, you both will surely end up together” said their friends. A couple of days ago Arevik called him up and said that they needed to meet, there was something important they needed to discuss. He got ready for that appointment as if it were a first date, he was anxious and nervous. He got yellow roses, which were her favorites. As he was waiting for her on the bridge holding the bouquet, his palms were sweating. She was right on time which was a bit unusual for her.
Armen’s mind was blurry; he only could remember some of the words she had uttered; “not ready…travel to see the world….experience life…” as if Arevik was talking to herself, he didn’t say a word which made her upset and she left.
He stayed there alone on the bridge, he was not aware of the time or his surroundings. Nothing made sense to him.
The first sunray hit his face when he came out of his deep thoughts and realized that it’s almost dawn. He dropped the roses and walks aimlessly.
This was a new direction for him; Armen wasn’t sure where to go and what to do now. But was certain about one thing, this was a new start, a blank canvas on the tripod.
“What beautiful roses, what a pity they’re weathered” said the janitor picking them up. “I’ll put them in water”.
It is a new day; the streets of Yerevan gradually were waking up.

Story #2: Butterfly and Biker

{It's Tuesday night, almost 10pm}

Supernova Rockstar: hello butterfly, I like your nickname
Butterfly: thanx, yours cool too
Supernova Rockstar: why “butterfly”? do you like butterflies?
Butterfly: yeah, I like the way they change day by day
Supernova Rockstar: aha
Butterfly: one day they’r like worms, another they transform to these beautiful creatures
so are you a real rockstar? :p
Supernova Rockstar: more than real baby ;) rock is in my blood!
Butterfly: what kind of rock? Do you play any musical instrument?
Supernova Rockstar: hard rock!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Alcohol, drugs & rock’n’rol
hey where did you go, did I scare you with that?
Butterfly: no no… I dig rock music too
Supernova Rockstar: so we should hang out sometime, you know, listen to music
Butterfly: mmmmmmm
Supernova Rockstar: i’ll come pick u up on my bike
Butterfly: wow, cool! What kind of a motorcycle? so you have a pic
Supernova Rockstar: yeah. wait a sec. i'll send u but u gotta send me ur pic too 'butterfly'
Butterfly: k. But u send ur pic first

“Attachment received”


Nice! So is that really u on the bike?
Supernova Rockstar: aha. this was a couple of months ago
“Attachment received”

So which one of the 2 blonds r u? the taller one!
they’r both cute ! hehe ;)
Hey, where did u go?
helllllllooooooooooo??
Butterfly: brb
sorry I was on the phone, my friend called, we’r goin' to this party
gtg
byeeee
Supernova Rockstar: k. we’ll talk later ...tc

A 14 year old teenager stood up from in front of the computer, she was talking on her phone. Her pimple full face was blushed from embarrassment. “I’m coming mom, I won’t be late”.

People around her could hear the voice on the other side of the phone

“It’s late, where are you? Young lady, you come home right now!”

The cursor on the screen was clicked on “log out”. A wheelchair was pushed back from the computer desk by old shaky hands. Suddenly the door opened, and a crack of light fell on the man’s face.

“What are you doing grandpa” said the boy. He put the tray by the bed.
If you look closer at the boy's face, you could recognize him as the motorcycle driver.

“Grandpa, it’s time for your pills”.

Story #1: Back to the roots

It was a cold winter evening; Mr. Khanjyan was sitting behind his desk. The office was lit dimly, but you could see the ivory and gold statues next to the window. He was looking at the floor, not moving a muscle while the phone was ringing off the hook. He took a deep breath, shifted his gaze to the cabinet next to his desk. It was full of photographs with famous personalities, certificates of appreciation and endless rows of trophies. The one on the far left was given to him by the president of Armenia for “the best businessman of the year”, next to it was the one of the highest achievement for the reconstruction of Gyumri, and another was given by the Ambassador of USA for maintaining the best relationships between the two countries. At that moment the secretary walked in.
“Mr. Khanjyan, everybody is waiting for you.”
“In a moment” he replied without turning his head.
He looked at the Japanese swords hung crossways on the wall. And he had a flashback about his childhood when he used to play with wooden swords with his friends in their garden. He remembered how he left their village house years ago and moved to Yerevan. Thereon his life had changed dramatically and in no time the little Ara of their village had become the respectable Mr. Khanjyan President of “Khanjyan International Co”.
There were series of sweet memories passing in front of his eyes, but suddenly there was one image that froze in his mind. He walked out of the office with a big smile on his face.
While passing by the big hall, he heard laughter. He turned his head and saw a lot of people had gathered to rejoice. They were all toasting, eating and drinking happily. It was a true celebration. He walked pass the hall and went through the back doors of the company to look for his Porsche. Ara gestured at the security attendant not to approach him. He himself unlocked his car and drove away quickly.
It was getting dark, but he knew the road very well although it had been more than a decade. In less than an hour, Ara parked the car in front of an old cottage, turned off the engine and walked to the door. he took a deep breath, walked into the dark house. There were no lights except for a shadowy beam coming from a room. Without hesitating, he walked to the light and through the door. in the middle of the room, there was a big wooden table. On the top of it was a half melted lit candle and an old women with her head hanging. She moved her head and raised her eyes at him. The smile lit her crying eyes.
“I knew you’d come. I have been praying for you. Happy Birthday son.”