Excerpts from the diary of Ed Tadevosyan,
A conscript / ACTOR

July 16, 2004 16:55

The asphalt ablaze…
A dusty, torn soldier’s boot which has crossed scoreless kilometers…
The sun turns the crowd into a uniform sweaty mass. In the wrinkles of clothes take shelter the flies, the only living creatures that enjoy the sweat dropping from the helmets of thousands of dirty heads…

The asphalt ablaze…
The sun burning…
The crowd wants to eat…
To reach something reminiscent to food, one needs to cross through dust, blazing asphalt, burning sun, torn soldier-boots, and heavy boxes.
The crowd sweats eating. They snatch food from one another.
The crowd needs to rest. The crowd has to rest…
The crowd knows that after getting fed, again…

The asphalt ablaze…
The sun burning…
The crowd is on the verge of nervous outburst..