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Armine Khananyan

Sara’s Saturday


‘One, two, three-four-five… Ceilidh is an Irish traditional social dance… One step back, two, steps forward… Step dancing is being performed simultaneously, making it gorgeously impressive and unresistingly engaging because of its increasing pace. The whole rationale is in expressing the sense of social cohesion through the easy step of a quick foot of the healthy body. One —confident step back, two — agile step forward, and quickly—three-four-five, mazed in the euphoric rhythm of thousand steps…’

-Sara, darling, are you still sleeping?! Yesterday evening you asked me to wake you up at 8:30. It’s already 9. Do you have anything important on the cards for today?- Buoyantly gabled the sweet voice from the other reality.

-Good morning, aunt Mane,- uttered Sara neutrally.

-Darling, it`s a little bit stuffy outdoors and is going to rain.

-The sky is going to unleash its emotions today,-said Sara dreamingly and added vivaciously.-Aunt, would you help me with my blue shirt?

The clouds could hardly retain from bursting when Sara entered the building. In the foyer mirror, situated right next to the entrance, she noticed that her meticulously straightened hair had come back to the natural waves. That day those passionately hated waves matched her tanned skin as never before. Sara possessed a unique charm, and, withal, had the taste and the brains to present her appearance at its best.

She moved towards the receipt desk to get the badge. The receptionist was a hazel-eyed brunette with a dense forelock. Nothing else could Sara perceive of her because of the desk`s height. The receptionist addressed her with an infinite willingness in her voice:

-I am sorry, would you please, if it is not difficult for you, oh I am again sorry, why should it be difficult for you? I mean …-her voice was becoming erratic with every word.

-My surname is Tamoyan.-Sara interrupted her with high-toned indulgence as if she was unfairly insulted.

-Here you are, please.-Murmured the receptionist hastily, trying to avoid wasting another inept phrase and passed the badge through the lower window promptly.

Sara was just in time; she had enough time to greet and exchange a few catchwords with her acquaintances and to find a suitable place to locate herself. It was planned as an interactive discussion but everybody anticipated only one person, Mr Meinian, to talk. This was not because none of the participants possessed enough insight or interest in the topic but because no one had Meinian`s enthusiasm in this cloudy Saturday morning. Neither did Sara.

Finally he arrived. Sara had already predisposed herself to observe the ritual in which she was privileged to take no part. The dance count started in her mind; one — everybody stood up, two — froze for a moment, three — fell like a snack. Hardly had Meinian started talking, the clouds put their shoulders on the wheel, knocking intensively against the wall-to-wall window. Everybody would have soon got hypnotized by the monotonous drops of the rain if the speaker`s voice was not so squeaky and the enthusiasm — so relentless. Alas, his ardour was far from being infectious. Nevertheless, he never stopped his speech tyranny for 40 minutes, not even when a young man entered and grabbed everyone’s attention; women`s — thanks to the fashionable outfit, men`s — due to his sassy manners. He took the place which was closest to the door, next to Sara, and plunged into his iPad.

The rain halted abruptly once the very last word was uttered. The coffee break was to the point.

-What a bore it was! This mister was a total airhead.-Started the young man when nobody but Sara could hear. She hardly knew the young man and to her his informality was bordering with brashness.

-Maybe he is not academically gifted but at least he seems to be concerned with the topic.

-Not academically gifted?!-he echoed rhetorically and added in an expectedly impudent manner.-Probably you are right; he has great chances of being diagnosed as intellectually handicapped-wisecracked Mark,-I am sorry, now they say disabled, don’t they? – Added he cynically, tearing his glance off his iPad and directing it towards Sara for the first time. His glance seemed to freeze for a tiny second, then it came back to its usual cool expression.

She smiled encouragingly and her smile magically extended to his face too.

-Mark, nice to meet you.- He offered a handshake.

-Sara.-she smiled gingerly.

-What about having something?-Asked Mark with a changed, serious tone.-I mean a cup of tea or coffee or …?

-Oh, I wouldn’t mind if you decided to woo me,-replied Sara jocosely, leaping their conversation back to the previous casual mood.

-Then I will bring you a cup of instant coffee with a dainty chocolate croissant,-smiled Mark, discarding his serious tone.


The second part of the conference was quite amusing. The seven-coloured rainbow penetrated through the immense window, disseminating positive energy throughout. Mr Meimian didn’t sound so boring anymore. The 90 minutes winged, and the hall flooded with the “goodbye-see-you” buzz.

Neither the hazel-eyed receptionist nor the people passing-by took any heed of the couple making their way through the hotel door and mischievously talking to each other. He- a tall, handsome young boy with the palpable air of self-confidence and she- a pretty, quick-witted young girl, riding her wheelchair freely, smoothly, confidently.

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