This nephew worked as a driver; his bride worked in a village shop. We had a long way to go, to the Talin region, on the southern slope of Mount Aragats. I had been uncertain whether to go—I’d had a pain in my belly since the previous evening, and like a swimmer with little confidence in his own strength, I was nervous of swimming far from shore. But when the phone rang in the morning and Martirosyan told me that he was waiting for me outside, together with his wife and Hortensia, I decided to be bold. Soon we were on the main road. We were going to have breakfast in our glassy coach—Martirosyan had not had time to eat anything at home. Afraid of disturbing the now-dozing beast in my belly, I did not touch the food; I just sipped a little coffee from the thermos. The Ararat valley was to our left; we could see both the Greater and the Lesser Ararat. And to our right stretched the snow-covered slopes of Mount Aragats.
