Environmental Notes

translator: Margarit Tadevosyan-Ordukhanyan

She pretended that it was his demanding flesh caressing her inside. Even her husband noticed how her body began to reciprocate by thrusting itself forward, so his movements became more abrupt and aggressive, but that only got in her way. If he at least turned away or stopped panting in that annoying way! No, that didn’t work, Mr. D. didn’t fit this profile or this tempo. His movements would have been different, gentle, tender, slow…. Next, the woman visualized the red-bearded, short, stalky geologist, his honey-colored eyes and delicate mouth….


The Premiere

“Don’t worry. Tatevik Benyaminovna likes to relax like this after a performance.” He led me aside, and then knelt down next to Tata, took a readied syringe out of his pocket, bared the needle, and injected the contents into Tata’s arm.


Workplace Romance

translator: Margarit Tadevosyan-Ordukhanyan

Why the inevitable? Why was it inevitable? Simply because a woman always feels it, nothing more, and she has no need to explain or rationalize it. The ostrich-like expressions of being interested in the other person, the conducive surprises, all those come later. Physical desire ranked last for Anna, who had a young, passionate husband with a constant eagerness for more self-assertion.



translator: G. M. Goshgarian

you read distractedly you'd think a fire was going to burn up what you're going to write, the other person yawns, collapses onto his chair, he closed his eyes, he looks at the door that has opened inwards, the scene can be repeated a thousand times, it's a film, someone's doing someone else in. the convicted man stands in the cell, there's no light but it's light, the reporter copies what he's written from the top or bottom. his footsteps are recorded in his ear, he counts the steps of someone going from the paving stones toward the exit, a criminal or a policeman?



translator: Margarit Tadevosyan-Ordukhanyan

he got on his feet. of course! there you go, brother shit, my great brother shit. the brother in america counts for nothing, i don’t consider him a brother. you’re all i’ve got.


The Landscape and the Woman

translator: Margarit Tadevosyan-Ordukhanyan

“Uh-uh,” the woman shook her head. She’d already gotten hers. Those thoughts always visited her after the act. She could ‘relax’ simply by touching, but rubbing up against something.



translator: Margarit Tadevosyan-Ordukhanyan

he’s drinking, and all he can think of is iren. nobody’s noticed that she’s already his, and that the only thing standing between their bodies now is time. a whole night with iren: iren naked, iren in bed



translator: Anahit Bobikyan

“We must take a different approach,” and looking at me, continued: “Comrade Arman has come up with an unexpected solution. In spite of its fantastic nature, it seems quite interesting.” Lenin took his place at the table. Everybody was looking attentively at me. After a pause, I stated confidently:
“The Tsar sympathizes with the proletarian revolution. He will make the announcement shortly.”


Hello and goodbye

translator: Margarit Tadevosyan-Ordukhanyan

The two women bumped into each other in the hubbub of Amiryan street. The tall blonde, formally dressed and heavily made up, startled out of her highbrow, serious facial expression, smiled simply and broadly; the other, a short, plump woman, set down whatever she had in her hands, and threw herself into the other’s embrace. They had been college mates once, and hadn’t seen each other since graduat ...


translator: Margarit Tadevosyan-Ordukhanyan

 I have come here in order to destroy all other faiths, in order to make the thought soar higher than faith, and penetrate the truth. Buddha Shagyamuni Prince Gautama                                  “The train from Petersburg to Moscow is departing from Track 2,” a female voice announces in Russian from the station’s loudspeakers. To whom could that voice belong? A beautiful woman, no doub ...

Hairless(2 stories)

translator: Margarit Tadevosyan-Ordukhanyan

dots instead of the road leading to the isolation cell. ono, why did you kill your wife? brother, put yourself in my place, you come home and find your wife screwing your father, what would you have done?


A hundred and six houses

"These pieces were written in the aftermath of the U.S. Congressional recognition of the Armenian Genocide.  They also evolve out of personal circumstance: moving to a multicultural community and thus re-thinking the U.S. as a lost homeland.  I wrote them both as prose poems, but as I was revising "Gone Native", I realized there were some syllabic patterns happening, which I decided to enhance wit ...