They slept separately that night, but something had shifted between them. In the morning, Armen made Armenian coffee, strong and sweet, and they planned their day over breakfast.
“I thought we’d visit Sevanavank first,” he said. “It’s not far, and the view of the lake from the monastery is spectacular. The ninth-century monastery sat on what had once been an island before the Soviets partially drained the lake for hydroelectric power. Now connected to the mainland by a peninsula, the two stone churches stood starkly against the winter sky, testaments to centuries of faith and endurance.
Julie stood at the edge of the complex, looking out over the frozen expanse of Lake Sevan. The air was crystal clear at this altitude, the sun reflecting off the ice with blinding intensity. She closed her eyes, feeling the cold wind on her face.
“What are you thinking about?” Armen asked, coming to stand beside her.
“About permanence,” she said. “These churches have stood here for over a thousand years, through invasions and earthquakes and changing empires. It makes my problems seem very small.”
“Small doesn’t mean insignificant,” he countered. “Your experience matters precisely because it is uniquely yours.”
That evening, after a day of exploration and dinner in a small local restaurant where Armen conversed with the owner, they returned to the cottage. The temperature had dropped further, and Julie shivered as they entered the house.
“Go sit by the fire,” Armen told her. “I’ll make us some tea.”
Julie curled up on the couch, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders as she watched Armen move about the kitchen. There was something soothing in his presence, an assuredness that didn’t tip over into arrogance.
When he joined her, handing her a steaming mug of tea laced with honey, she asked, “Why do you care about me?”
Armen did not answer. He just looked into Julie’s eyes. “I see myself in you – me, the strong, successful guy, is as frightened inside as you are. You are my reflection.”
Julie did not know that Armen was vulnerable too. She finally talked about her depression.
“I’ve struggled with depression since I was young. There are good periods and bad ones…” She hesitated, then decided to be fully honest. “I ended up hospitalized after I stopped taking care of myself. Stopped eating, mostly. My body just shut down.”
Armen reached across the space between them, taking her hand. His palm was warm and solid against hers. “Thank you for telling me. I suspected something like that, from things you’ve said.”
“It scares people away,” she admitted. “The unpredictability of it. The way I withdraw when it gets bad.”
“I’m not easily scared,” he said, and the simple statement held no bravado, just quiet confidence.
“Yet here you are,” he pointed out. “Still standing, still teaching, still trying to write your novel. That’s not weakness, Julie.”
Later that night, when they kissed again by the dying embers of the fire, Julie didn’t pull away. When Armen’s hands moved gently under her sweater, she leaned into his touch. And when he whispered, “Stay with me tonight,” she nodded, taking his hand and following him upstairs.
Julie did not know anything. She did not know if her depression would be back. She had Armen and her book. And that was enough for a new beginning. Later that night, she wrote another short story:
Reflection
Serenity pleased her, but something essential was missing from her life. She tried to fill the emptiness with cigarettes, drawing smoke into her lungs as if it might somehow fill the void within. But what was this elusive thing she craved? It had no name, yet its absence felt overwhelming and powerful. She sensed that finding it would give meaning to everything that was happening around her – it would fill her empty cup with the sweetest juice. The trouble was, she had no idea where to begin looking or how to obtain what her soul desperately needed.
Once upon a time, there lived a young man who left the comfort of his home with a peculiar mission: to find he-knew-not-what in he-knew-not-where. Day after day, month after month, he searched with unwavering determination. His journey took him through countless cities and remote villages, across bustling marketplaces and quiet countryside paths. Along the way, he encountered all manner of people – wealthy merchants and humble beggars, wise elders and curious children, each with their own stories to tell.
Some days brought him joy and hope, when a chance conversation or a moment of beauty made him feel he was drawing closer to his mysterious goal. Other days were filled with disappointment and despair, when the path seemed endless and his quest appeared futile. There were times when he felt so certain he had almost grasped what he was seeking that he would linger in a place for weeks or even months, convinced the answer lay just within reach. But inevitably, the feeling would fade, and he would pack his few belongings and continue on his peripatetic way.
One autumn day, as golden leaves danced in the crisp air, he found himself walking along a forest path when he noticed a large, black raven perched on the gnarled branch of an ancient oak tree. The bird’s intelligent eyes seemed to study him with unusual interest.
“Where are you going, traveler?” the raven asked, its voice deep and knowing.
The man paused, surprised but somehow not startled by the bird’s words. “I am searching for something I cannot name, in a place I have never seen,” he replied honestly.
The raven tilted its head thoughtfully. “Ah, but you have already found what you seek.”
“How can that be?” the man asked, his heart quickening with sudden hope. “I have searched everywhere, met everyone, tried everything, yet I still feel empty-handed.”
“Walk to the river just beyond those trees,” the raven instructed, gesturing with one dark wing. “Look into the water, and you will see what you have been seeking all along.”
Intrigued and slightly skeptical, the man made his way to the riverbank. The water ran clear and still, creating a perfect mirror. As he leaned over and gazed into its depths, he saw his own reflection staring back at him. But for the first time in years, he truly saw himself – not just his physical appearance, but his journey, his growth, his experiences, and all the wisdom he had gathered along the way.
In that moment of recognition, he understood. What he had been searching for was not something external to be found, but something internal to be discovered. He had been seeking himself all along.
(…the end…)
by Armine Asryan (Nane Sevunts)
Transadaptation Volume 7 – Via Ellipsis – Continuation of Uncertainty, Instability and Extremes Transadapted
January: An Unexpected Trip Down Memory Lane – Sarah-Leah Pimentel (South Africa)
February: Blow-up – Veronika Groke (Austria)
March: Futuros Murguistas – Alejandra Baccino Uberti (Uruguay)
April: The Nomenclature Man – Paulius Limantas (Lithuania)
May: Amanecerá y veremos – Adriana Uribe (Colombia)
June: Finding Light in Yerevan – Armine Asryan (Armenia)
July: The Last Judgement – Nadia Silva Castro (Brazil)
August: Who’s Afraid of the Big, Bad Worm? – Narantsogt (Natso) Baatarkhuu (Mongolia)
September: Second Steps – Jonay Quintero Hernandez (Spain)
October: New Normality – Svetlana Molchanova (Russia)
November: Pandemic Love – Li Xiakun (China)
December: Beyond Comprehension – Rahaf Konbaz (Syria)
Background – Context
Transadaptation Volume 6: Meaning? – Uncertainty, Instability and Extremes Transadapted, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2025)
Transadaptation Volume 5: Of Flowing Vicissitudes – Life Transadapted, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2024)
Transadaptation Volume 4: Material Dissent – Adulthood Transadapted, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2023)
Transadaptation Volume 3: Evanescent – Young Adulthood Transadapted, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2022)
Transadaptation Volume 2: Conceived – Childhood Transadapted, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2021)
Transadaptation Volume 1: In the Middle – Prelude to a Contemporary Transadaptation, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2020)
Peripatetic Alterity: A Philosophical Treatise on the Spectrum of Being – Romantics and Pragmatists by Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2019)
La Syncrétion of Polarization and Extremes Transposée, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2019)
The Codex of Uncertainty Transposed, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2018)
L’anthologie of Global Instability Transpuesta, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2017)
From Wahnsinnig to the Loony Bin: German and Russian Stories Transposed to Modern-day America, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2013)
Emblems and stories on the international community
Perception by country – Transposing emblems, articles, short stories and reports from around the world
Credits
Background photo: Kapan, Armenia – The building – KrimKate (Shutterstock)
Top row of inserted photos (left to right): 1. Old Khndzoresk, Armenia – Man-made caves – Lovelypeace (Shutterstock); 2. Kapan, Armenia – A spring evening – KrimKate (Shutterstock)
Second row of inserted photos (left to right): 1. Goris, Armenia – Hung out to dry – KrimKate (Shutterstock); 2. Kapan, Armenia – The town – KrimKate (Shutterstock)
Third row of inserted photos (left to right): 1. Armenia – A village in Syunik province – KrimKate (Shutterstock); 2. Goris, Armenia – On the street – KrimKate (Shutterstock)
Fourth row of inserted photos (left to right): 1. Kapan, Armenia – Illuminated – KrimKate (Shutterstock)
Fifth row of inserted photos (left to right): 1. Kapan, Armenia – At home – KrimKate (Shutterstock); 2. Halidzor, Armenia – On the edge – KrimKate (Shutterstock); 3. Kapan, Armenia – The embankment – KrimKate (Shutterstock)
They slept separately that night, but something had shifted between them. In the morning, Armen made Armenian coffee, strong and sweet, and they planned their day over breakfast.
“I thought we’d visit Sevanavank first,” he said. “It’s not far, and the view of the lake from the monastery is spectacular. The ninth-century monastery sat on what had once been an island before the Soviets partially drained the lake for hydroelectric power. Now connected to the mainland by a peninsula, the two stone churches stood starkly against the winter sky, testaments to centuries of faith and endurance.
Julie stood at the edge of the complex, looking out over the frozen expanse of Lake Sevan. The air was crystal clear at this altitude, the sun reflecting off the ice with blinding intensity. She closed her eyes, feeling the cold wind on her face.
“What are you thinking about?” Armen asked, coming to stand beside her.
“About permanence,” she said. “These churches have stood here for over a thousand years, through invasions and earthquakes and changing empires. It makes my problems seem very small.”
“Small doesn’t mean insignificant,” he countered. “Your experience matters precisely because it is uniquely yours.”
That evening, after a day of exploration and dinner in a small local restaurant where Armen conversed with the owner, they returned to the cottage. The temperature had dropped further, and Julie shivered as they entered the house.
“Go sit by the fire,” Armen told her. “I’ll make us some tea.”
Julie curled up on the couch, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders as she watched Armen move about the kitchen. There was something soothing in his presence, an assuredness that didn’t tip over into arrogance.
When he joined her, handing her a steaming mug of tea laced with honey, she asked, “Why do you care about me?”
Armen did not answer. He just looked into Julie’s eyes. “I see myself in you – me, the strong, successful guy, is as frightened inside as you are. You are my reflection.”
Julie did not know that Armen was vulnerable too. She finally talked about her depression.
“I’ve struggled with depression since I was young. There are good periods and bad ones…” She hesitated, then decided to be fully honest. “I ended up hospitalized after I stopped taking care of myself. Stopped eating, mostly. My body just shut down.”
Armen reached across the space between them, taking her hand. His palm was warm and solid against hers. “Thank you for telling me. I suspected something like that, from things you’ve said.”
“It scares people away,” she admitted. “The unpredictability of it. The way I withdraw when it gets bad.”
“I’m not easily scared,” he said, and the simple statement held no bravado, just quiet confidence.
“Yet here you are,” he pointed out. “Still standing, still teaching, still trying to write your novel. That’s not weakness, Julie.”
Later that night, when they kissed again by the dying embers of the fire, Julie didn’t pull away. When Armen’s hands moved gently under her sweater, she leaned into his touch. And when he whispered, “Stay with me tonight,” she nodded, taking his hand and following him upstairs.
Julie did not know anything. She did not know if her depression would be back. She had Armen and her book. And that was enough for a new beginning. Later that night, she wrote another short story:
Reflection
Serenity pleased her, but something essential was missing from her life. She tried to fill the emptiness with cigarettes, drawing smoke into her lungs as if it might somehow fill the void within. But what was this elusive thing she craved? It had no name, yet its absence felt overwhelming and powerful. She sensed that finding it would give meaning to everything that was happening around her – it would fill her empty cup with the sweetest juice. The trouble was, she had no idea where to begin looking or how to obtain what her soul desperately needed.
Once upon a time, there lived a young man who left the comfort of his home with a peculiar mission: to find he-knew-not-what in he-knew-not-where. Day after day, month after month, he searched with unwavering determination. His journey took him through countless cities and remote villages, across bustling marketplaces and quiet countryside paths. Along the way, he encountered all manner of people – wealthy merchants and humble beggars, wise elders and curious children, each with their own stories to tell.
Some days brought him joy and hope, when a chance conversation or a moment of beauty made him feel he was drawing closer to his mysterious goal. Other days were filled with disappointment and despair, when the path seemed endless and his quest appeared futile. There were times when he felt so certain he had almost grasped what he was seeking that he would linger in a place for weeks or even months, convinced the answer lay just within reach. But inevitably, the feeling would fade, and he would pack his few belongings and continue on his peripatetic way.
One autumn day, as golden leaves danced in the crisp air, he found himself walking along a forest path when he noticed a large, black raven perched on the gnarled branch of an ancient oak tree. The bird’s intelligent eyes seemed to study him with unusual interest.
“Where are you going, traveler?” the raven asked, its voice deep and knowing.
The man paused, surprised but somehow not startled by the bird’s words. “I am searching for something I cannot name, in a place I have never seen,” he replied honestly.
The raven tilted its head thoughtfully. “Ah, but you have already found what you seek.”
“How can that be?” the man asked, his heart quickening with sudden hope. “I have searched everywhere, met everyone, tried everything, yet I still feel empty-handed.”
“Walk to the river just beyond those trees,” the raven instructed, gesturing with one dark wing. “Look into the water, and you will see what you have been seeking all along.”
Intrigued and slightly skeptical, the man made his way to the riverbank. The water ran clear and still, creating a perfect mirror. As he leaned over and gazed into its depths, he saw his own reflection staring back at him. But for the first time in years, he truly saw himself – not just his physical appearance, but his journey, his growth, his experiences, and all the wisdom he had gathered along the way.
In that moment of recognition, he understood. What he had been searching for was not something external to be found, but something internal to be discovered. He had been seeking himself all along.
(…the end…)
by Armine Asryan (Nane Sevunts)
Transadaptation Volume 7 – Via Ellipsis – Continuation of Uncertainty, Instability and Extremes Transadapted
January: An Unexpected Trip Down Memory Lane – Sarah-Leah Pimentel (South Africa)
February: Blow-up – Veronika Groke (Austria)
March: Futuros Murguistas – Alejandra Baccino Uberti (Uruguay)
April: The Nomenclature Man – Paulius Limantas (Lithuania)
May: Amanecerá y veremos – Adriana Uribe (Colombia)
June: Finding Light in Yerevan – Armine Asryan (Armenia)
July: The Last Judgement – Nadia Silva Castro (Brazil)
August: Who’s Afraid of the Big, Bad Worm? – Narantsogt (Natso) Baatarkhuu (Mongolia)
September: Second Steps – Jonay Quintero Hernandez (Spain)
October: New Normality – Svetlana Molchanova (Russia)
November: Pandemic Love – Li Xiakun (China)
December: Beyond Comprehension – Rahaf Konbaz (Syria)
Background – Context
Transadaptation Volume 6: Meaning? – Uncertainty, Instability and Extremes Transadapted, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2025)
Transadaptation Volume 5: Of Flowing Vicissitudes – Life Transadapted, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2024)
Transadaptation Volume 4: Material Dissent – Adulthood Transadapted, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2023)
Transadaptation Volume 3: Evanescent – Young Adulthood Transadapted, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2022)
Transadaptation Volume 2: Conceived – Childhood Transadapted, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2021)
Transadaptation Volume 1: In the Middle – Prelude to a Contemporary Transadaptation, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2020)
Peripatetic Alterity: A Philosophical Treatise on the Spectrum of Being – Romantics and Pragmatists by Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2019)
La Syncrétion of Polarization and Extremes Transposée, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2019)
The Codex of Uncertainty Transposed, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2018)
L’anthologie of Global Instability Transpuesta, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2017)
From Wahnsinnig to the Loony Bin: German and Russian Stories Transposed to Modern-day America, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2013)
Emblems and stories on the international community
Perception by country – Transposing emblems, articles, short stories and reports from around the world
Credits
Background photo: Kapan, Armenia – The building – KrimKate (Shutterstock)
Top row of inserted photos (left to right): 1. Old Khndzoresk, Armenia – Man-made caves – Lovelypeace (Shutterstock); 2. Kapan, Armenia – A spring evening – KrimKate (Shutterstock)
Second row of inserted photos (left to right): 1. Goris, Armenia – Hung out to dry – KrimKate (Shutterstock); 2. Kapan, Armenia – The town – KrimKate (Shutterstock)
Third row of inserted photos (left to right): 1. Armenia – A village in Syunik province – KrimKate (Shutterstock); 2. Goris, Armenia – On the street – KrimKate (Shutterstock)
Fourth row of inserted photos (left to right): 1. Kapan, Armenia – Illuminated – KrimKate (Shutterstock)
Fifth row of inserted photos (left to right): 1. Kapan, Armenia – At home – KrimKate (Shutterstock); 2. Halidzor, Armenia – On the edge – KrimKate (Shutterstock); 3. Kapan, Armenia – The embankment – KrimKate (Shutterstock)