
If I were to draw the seven-minute long meetings around the tables, I would put some crunchy rolls of thread, shaped like a giant in the back of each person.
However, patterns of thoughts, ideas and frustrations are similar in our conversations. Maybe there is a different tone, a sort of bravery and clearness between the pauses of each person, but as one of them said - not all of as have to be strong and we have a right to be vulnerable.
While we keep smiling and nodding about the general ideas we share, truly mutual agreement is shared without words, but shown through the gaze, a nod or a sigh. It was something I couldn't stop noticing while talking to each and every person in the room. Even though I kept enjoying the conversations, I could not give up on being a third-eye gazing from the corner. By the end of the 5th minute, all of the crunchy monsters seemed like the bite-sized ones, however, the moment we look at our phones for the news- they grow bigger. The moment is yet to come.
And maybe, (very careful one, though). There still are topics other than peace in conventional wisdom, that jump out of girl's mouth without noticing or planning on it - like your dad refusing to read your book, or an acceptance of your choice - the hell with it - writing. Like, "couldn't you get a normal hobby or something?" But if we still talk about that, if our every-day routine consists of forced listening, maybe there are some pigeons left in our lands. Pigeons, which have never been a symbol of individual freedom of choice, speech or etcetera, but a conventional understanding of peace - birds instead of bombs in the sky.
About the author
Nino Bukia
Mixing the various backgrounds of a curious reader, publisher, illustrator and a tiny bit of a translator with an academic degree in literary studies ended up in an inexorable attempt of writing fiction.
More stories
BlogsNo...el
A wall of dark smog, unbothered by the blueness of the sky and the spring birds singing, was hovering over the city landscape. He knew exactly how it would look like, he knew the shapelessness of the dark torrent directed by the wind, he knew the speed of its darkness covering...
BlogsDetachment from the Origine
Civilization is not knowing the origin of what you eat. While walking through the ancient city side of Casablanca, I noticed live chickens in a cage in the middle of the street. As I started to watch from a distance, a woman approached the man with a knife standing next to the...
BlogsԼե տուա, սե տուա
Լրագրողները հերթապահ նախադասությունների մեծ զինանոց ունեն։ Լրագրողներին հանկարծակիի բերել ու դիմակազերծել բավականին դժվար է, լրագրողները քաղաքական գործիչների պես կարողանում են թաքցնել իրենց չիմացությունը տերմինների հետևում։ Լավ լրագրողները։ Լրագրությունը անդեմ է։ Հայ-թուրքական...