Shushan Avagyan >
Postcard
| Left from Tbilisi
today – took a minibus – the road back was spectacular – slowly
moving southward to Yerevan. The corporate buildings have no grace
here – they turn into chains of naked mountains – each
crowned with a church. Meadows of the red, of the yellow, of the
violet flowers hand-sewn on a bishop’s regalia – endless
fields of golden wheat. Scenery changes in a blink – highways
become narrow and unpredictable, serpentine is the word – and
the need to completely trust the driver is intoxicating. Cemeteries – scattered
on the edge of the road – old and new, with ornamental cross-stones
and pictures of the dead, irises – metastasized around the
graves – all well taken care of – and yet there is
no sign of any locals or villages nearby. Indeed – we are
a funerary society. |
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