Zeynep Ankara: Stories

To correct the world...

Fri, 11 Jul 2008 19:52:08 GMT

I read a short story recently and wanted to share with you:

"The man took his newspaper and stood aside to rest after a tired week. Just that moment, his son came at the double and asked: "When will we go to the movie house?" The father remembered that he promised about it. But he wasn't feel like to go out for that weekend. He was just thinking to falter an excuse, saw a promotion map of the world on the newspaper. He carved the map up immediately and gave them to his son: "If you fix the map, I will take you out." The kid took the broken map which fell to pieces and went. The man thought that he got rid of to go out. But ten minutes after, his son came at the double again and showed the fixed map and said with smiling: "Now we can go out anymore!" The father couldn't believe his eyes and asked: "How did you do that?" The kid answered: "There was a man picture behind the map. When I fixed the man, the world fixed too automatically."

Quotes by me

Wed, 26 Mar 2008 10:18:42 GMT

Kanatsız Düşüşler (Falling Without Wings) is my first book. It includes 18 existentialist stories. And there are some quotes from the beginning in every stories. I want to share with you them:

1) Her Name is Genesis; (A young girl and her dog, a gay and his friend spend some time in a public park and share their thoughts.) -Only curs are free and they are shot.

2) The Play; (The suicidal thoughts of some women in every age while they were playing cards.) -Not every day, we die in every moment in suicidal remarks but we can't attach our necks to the gallows. Hit the bottle!

3) Down With the Helm! (An old man falls in love with a young girl in a resort town. But the young girl in loves with two gays who are friends.) -Come to me naked to the bone. Didn't I come to you after strip to the buff, after strip all my being?

4) Pathologic Mourning; (A mourning of a young girl about an old woman) -"Verra la morte e avra i tuoti occhi" (This quote doesn't by me. It is from Pavese) -Death will come and look at me with your eyes (with the eyes of true love).

5) Everything Is Same; (A hump of a young girl goes on all day long.) -Alike things and mirrors / Alike things are all same / Have to destroy all of them and the mirrors.

6) A Journey to the Neverland; (A fantastic journey in the cosmos.) -At the gate of the armageddon, I became speechless.

7) Must Be Sleep In The Nights; (A loneliness story for two people.) -I drank my solitude straight at the magnificent gate which opens quietly of a morning.

8) The Leading Lady From Istanbul / A Woman Who Doesn't Know To Scratch The Pot Out; A villager couple, a little girl and an actress spend some time together and the actress leave them one day. This is a story on how a person can change the other's lives.) -Clean my footmarks first, forget me then.

9) The Pigeons Street; (A bar night on the Pigeons Street) -Away, so far away, a candle is fluttering with its wings in a frame. All shadows are on the walls.

10) The Sun Have To Rise Again; (A man dies, his wife and girl friend come together to face something.) -People are loving, are loved, letting down, giving up and becoming derelict. And again, they are loving, letting down, giving up and becoming derelict. Gradually, they see that the things which assign a meaning to their lives are don't cause a difference anymore.

11) Footsteps Of The Sleep; (Some associations of a woman who is trying to fall asleep. A stream of consciousness sample.) -There is something missing... Is it love?

12) Pain; (A young woman writer decides to leave her husband but she can't. But anyway, she is happy with her decision.)

-A crone who has black chador was dotting and going one... And that woman turned into the vampire bat.

-The ghostly woman who wore a golden flying dress, was walking barefooted in twilight... And that woman turned into the snowbird.

-A woman was picking up graveyard flowers while jumping and downing like a grasshopper to make preparations for her death dance... And that woman turned into the toucan.

-A woman who has a asphodelus aestivus crest on her head, came out of the ground. While she run the earth, it was dawn. The magnificent woman began to walk between the wreckages with lazy steps... And that woman turned into the cuckoo.

-A woman who combs (with the friendly morning wind) her hair (which washes with the golden arrows of the sun), was ascending the stairs of a light blue sanctuary at full speed... And that woman turned into the albatross.

-A woman who has swift march, ran the black flies while flings her mauve cloak. The woman turned into the falco tinnunculus while she was going to an unknown place on the ground.

-It was a silent night which is divided with electric blue lightnings. An old woman who is quavering to far away was walking on a wizened lake bearing... And that woman turned into the swallow.

- The bird has glaring plumes and two big wings. But the bird couldn't fly. He sent his voice to the places where its wings couldn't take him away; never cried.

13) A Last Sleep Just To Make Conversation In A Rainless Night; (A resistance of loneliness with death opinions.) -I kissed the death hand of my mother. And that moment, I was thrown into a faded light. The heaven was burning.

14) A New Shoot; (A young man who is trying to hang on to the life.) -While you were having those paint brushes, your hands were virgin, brain was whore.

15) Three Suicides; (Three people and their some kind of suicides.) -Ah, death... which is the eternal fellow in the side street! If I call out, it will hear. Thus I talk in whispers.

-Schizophrenia is a treasure just for some master painters. But it is a hard line for a man of letters.

16) Venus, Hitler and Democracy; (A woman who has cancer at the point of death. The cats named Venus, Hitler and Democracy remain behind her.) -We hadn't gone among people who are prisoners of taboos addicted society. It is true that, we were Gods of that prisoners. We were defending the same opinions my dear allies. But you cut your lovers who are just near you to the heart, while you love your distant goals.

17) Hidden Planet; (An utopian cosmos story.) -The world of children too, got dirty.

18) There Was Nobody To Open The Door; (A lonely old woman who lives by a lake and her last words.) -There are some people who come into the world with an invisible isolation stamp on their foreheads. They stay without love, when ever they struggle for love; they stay without people, when ever they struggle for company. Most of them paint nicely, sing some sensitive songs, write some substantial words. Sadly, their efforts are not enough to raise their single lives. They are always left on their own; side and offended.

Copyrighted by Zeynep Ankara

a woman who doesn't know to scratch the pot out...

Thu, 12 Oct 2006 10:27:24 GMT

A good book; by DELPHIN ENJOLRAS

(*)(**)

THE LEADING LADY FROM ISTANBUL

clean my footmorks first

forget me then,

Rosebody.

My grandfather used to tell the last world war in the gaslight nights till a leading lady called Rosebody from Istanbul to join our life. My grandfather... I remember with his rangy, abundant grey hair, brisky mustache, nicotine yellow fingers... His embroidered cap is always squeaky. He used to wet the tobacco papers with his tongue, bite its one side warily and roll up without spill the shag. He used to leather string for bifocals on his neck. Sometimes he used to look at his hobbled clock with a glitz, with bobbing backwards his head a little while. I used to listen quietly and connected his antiwar frenzy each time. He used to flip, boil over, come to his feet, maintain silence again, then sit cross-legged and roll a cigarette up, smoke it with a glass of well-steeped tea. While he crash out his cigarette, used to say "Köftehorlar... köftehorlar!.."(***) ceaseless. He used to say "Hey man... Are you a human being as me?.. Are we some human beings as you?.. You bounders!.. You köftehorlar!.. Did I make away to the caverns from a predator?.. For days... Destitute... I made away from some human beings as me!" He used to say "Ah!" with a deep sorrow. "Ah..." The nights that I remember from that times, close always with mygrandmother's blowing to the gas-lamp...

One morning, when I woke up on the shakedown, saw a woman in beautiful dresses that I never saw before. She was so beautiful. She was standing over me with smile. I had blenched and closed my eyes again. Then a beautiful perfume had enfolded all around me and I felt an easy hand on my cheek. Why I hadn't opened my eyes?..

The curtain is opening. Director Nuran is an old friend. I think he is in the backstage. My last hopeless love Tahsin is moving for the last time to watch closely and looking at the stage with a researcher expression. The set has been arranged as in my text. It puts me at easy. Yes... The cot-like wooden bedsteads, cushions, kilims, embroidered pillows and curtains, gas-lamp, the radio which attached to the wall... Now Hadji Raif Master, I mean my grandfather is snuff-sniffing on the cot-like wooden bedstead.

(Hadji Raif Master had sat on the cot-like wooden bedstead, he has been snuff-sniffing. Sulhiye has been embroidering on the cushion.)

SULHİYE - (Uneasy) How long will she stay here, master?..
HADJİ RAİF MASTER - (Unconcerned) Who will stay how long? (He sneezes.)
SULHİYE - (With a repressed anger) Who would be?!.. Of course, the leading lady from Istanbul!..
HADJİ RAİF MASTER - (Unconcerned) Rosebody?.. (He sneezes.)

Rosebody was either in or out of our life. As if either she will stay forever or go at any moment... She used to hold my hand and take away to some long stroll in the poplar grove. As if there is an adult person beside her, she used to tell all about herself. Now I realize that it was not important too much for her that I listen or not.

In our long strolls, I rediscovered all around that I know. Lizards, snake eggs, fireflies, turtle gets, frogs and the thin river which behinds of the poplar grove and they ingrained in my mind that I never forget... When we tired, used to lie down under the poplars, listen to the music of arms without talk. That rustling sounds was a beautiful symphony. One day, while watching the poplar arms which spoon under plain cover with blue sky, we had fell asleep.

Here! The stage player who is in the role of Rosebody is on the stage... But this is a very tall and athletic woman. Maybe her physique is acceptable for conditions of the eighties more than that years. However, Rosebody was neither fat nor thin, mealy, middle sized, strong but elegant looking. I am flogging myself to not make over this disappointment to a prompt prejudice.

(The radio is on. While Hadji Raif Master and Sulhiye are staying, Rosebody comes in. When she saw them, stops once in a while and looks around to guess where she can sit. She gets the weight off her legs with a great sophisticated gracefulness on a couple feather cushions.)

ROSEBODY - How coming too late the evenings here.
SULHİYE - (Uneasy) To attach the morning to the evening... have to work...

(Rosebody ignores this pinprick, turns to Hadji Raif Master.)

ROSEBODY - (To Hadji Raif Master) Sweetie, what do you do all but listening to the radio?
HADJİ RAİF MASTER - I ordered playing cards for you.

Rosebody was not enjoying our poplar grove strolls anymore. She was mentioning more about Istanbul, playing some things which remind her this city, sighing deep between whiles.

(Rosebody slouchs more on the feather cushions.)

ROSEBODY - (She sighs) Ah!.. Ah, Göksu nights... (As if relive) The birds always repeat merry songs, while look at the river... Which saying Kurdily mode songs... The stars follow to the moon, to the Göksu, to the birds, to the beautiful women and lovely men...

Rosebody's Istanbul stories had becomed a section our life which hadn't lived gradually. As if we had lived in Göksu, in Kandilli, in Maşuklar Hill, Galata, Yalova, Tellitabya... As if we had lived there a part of our lifes which had forgotten. When her longings reflected us, my granfather, grandmother and me had began to looked that culture's people.

(Hadji Raif Master with thin brisky mustache and hair oil. Sulhiye is in silky Istanbul dresses. Rosebody puts on Hadji Raif Master's a hookah with a great elegance and lies down on a cot-like wooden bedstead, begins to eat some candies with purse her lips with gusto.)

SULHİYE - (To Hadji Raif Master) Master, it is the time of the namaz...

My grandfather was interrupting the times of the namaz, the date from Rosebody came. Actually I had not seen him while he performs the namaz at home before. But when the mosque without minaret's hodja gave the call to prayer with in a feeble pipe and hacks, he used to stand up with familiar motions, say "the time of the namaz" and go.

What the hell is that?.. The stage player who is in the role of Rosebody, whenever her hands touched the decors, rubbing her fingers with becoming polluted feelings... No!.. Now I realize that the player who is in the role of Sulhiye is not nervous about objects. But the exact opposite of her, my grandmother was nervous about objects. Rosebody used to say that everyone's life is a mistake. I had thought always this sentence with a confused understanding effort. I felt that I am getting mad at Nuran secretly. The wrong people, the wrong roles... It is the same with life, as Rosebody said.

I am changing my way of sitting with anger frequently. Tahsin's eyes on me but I don't look at him. He is playing his insightful man part well.

(Rosebody has been looking out of the window. As if she has been daydreaming. Sulhiye comes in and watch her a little while. Then she gets the weight off her legs with a gracefulness on the feather cushions as Rosebody. Rosebody realizes her, looks instantaneous and then goes on to look out of the window.)

ROSEBODY - (With longing) There... A waterside house at Rumeli side... Have to eat something with friends in the hall with fountain which looks at the sea. Have to drink something with friends in the Bosphorus, have to converse with joy, have to sing and fall in love.

(Rosebody looks at Sulhiye's face as if to understand what she thought. Sulhiye gets her hand on the embroidery with a cold smile.)

ROSEBODY - (With disappointment) Your people look like to your climate... Your smile is not warm up.

The stage player who is in the role of Rosebody is never looks like Rosebody. Maybe she had becomed a stage player by accident. Maybe she had found pleasure in it and couldn't give up. But she never has an artistic soul. Where is Rosebody, what is this?! She is anything but Rosebody. Maybe a real Istanbul woman should have played this role. This is the one who funks out of touch to the decors, has very slim lips, with shrill, with cramped moving woman, if worse comes to worse, would enact a woman who worries always about her career passion, looks depressed to the ground while walks on the road, flounders with her unsuccessful times accounts. Nuran!..

(Rosebody tooks the playing cards and sits beside of Sulhiye with enthusiasm.)

ROSEBODY - Sweetie, let's tell the fortunes.

The woman who is in the role of Rosebody sat beside of Sulhiye with a palmist gypsy performance. It is not like that!.. Her shawl had skinned from her shoulders, she is setting her clothes racks which slide down with anxiety consistent... However, Rosebody didn't use to set her clothes racks. Besides, her clothes which get rid of rack's rule, used to try to get down freely... i'll be damned!.. She is setting her clothes racks but taking no notice of her legs that are opened. I feel low. She is killing Rosebody, on the other hand, showing off herself amateurish. I am looking at the audience... It is not possible to understand something from their faces.

I have always thought that why my grandmother didn't jealous of Rosebody. Formerly, it is true that she was not accepted her easily. Maybe she was thinking that she had to do like that. But later on, neither neighbourhood pressings nor the feelings of guilt of my grandfather, had any effect on her. An ordinary life had taken on a lively note. It was the time of enjoy...

Somehow, my grandmother served to Rosebody with a latent adoration. She faced my grandfather's passion of Rosebody with respect, honour and tolerance. But, however, a trouble which is in very deep, came out by the way of some preciosity. Her dresses which duly set up Istanbul were always very clean. They were never wrinkle or wear. She was paying heed more to her sitting or standing anymore. She was embroidering with nicety so much time. However Rosebody used to sit or stand as if she wasn't heeding her dresses. She didn't use to need to touch her skirt which huddles between her legs. She had a style which taking it easy for unnecessary details but as if solves the very important and hard vital equations with delicate and lovely. -To live was a serious act.- When she lied down or moved, her dresses used to glide downwards. But when my grandmother sat, her skirt used to stand as a tight paper between her legs.

(Rosebody has been museing; her head is on Hadji Raif Master's knee.)

HADJİ RAİF MASTER - When the autumn ended, I take you away to Istanbul.
ROSEBODY - (With longing and hopelessness) Istanbul!..

Her hopelessness had spread to all of us as just her longing. As if they had put us on to behind a waterfall and forgotten there. We were waiting to be saved. The experiences which are fascinate with their beauty, had turned into some strangulations one by one. A destroyer which winds being indistinct omnipresent, had been gnawing bit by bit to everything with its creepy power. I was afraid that it was my turn.

The first scene had finished. I didn't arise, because I don't want to come across with Nuran. A little while after, Tahsin asked me if I would go to the backstage. When I answered negative, he held my arm with an understanding way and went to the backstage.

It shouldn't be like that. I have some feelings of guilt which will never end. As if I injured my grandparents impardonable. All my body is stretched with anger, anxiety and regret. My worry is about that I couldn't make feel their experiences. I don't care about that I couldn't strike home as a writer... The process had gotten off my rails anymore. It is an empty wagon now which can stop with knock against a wall... I should go. I arised with a sudden decision, went by the saloon at one sweep and protruded. I saw Nuran supposedly sometime, but my decided steps took me out to the pave and fresh air.

Here's Istanbul. There are so many footmark from Rosebody on its streets. There are so many footmark from sultans, from princes, grand viziers on it. The city of the lost times... The city of the lost people... Traditional with marginal will always be secretly side by side at its back streets... Yes, always. Little schemes, street boys and girls, stray cats and curs... Muggers and hookers... Street brawls... Just near the church and mosques. Old palaces, old pray and prayers... Hard to get into, hard to leave... Give me a hint Istanbul, don't destroy my soul... I turned to a first street. It was an uphill road but I continued my trip.

When I woke up in a morning, I had realized that Rosebody had gone because of the silent and tense atmosphere in home. Only a white lace gloves which had gotten behind her. It had left by haphazard on a feather cushion as a dead gull. I had saw that my grandmother had try it on one day. But the gloves had not worn well, a rip had gone from the thumb to the wrist.

After Rosebody, my grandfather hanged around on the street corners as crippled by the bends for a while. Then he began to live as before. As if Rosebody had never lived with us. His string mustache had lengthened as before. When mosque without minaret's hodja gave the call to prayer, he stood up with saying "time of the namaz" and went to the mosque with rub his rheumatic legs. Besides, he rolled up skillfully for my grandmother as before. They hit the pipe... as before. The woes covered with ashes and the hobbled clock was carried with posing as before... Till Rosebody joins to our life again as a wounded owl.

One day, my grandfather moved in from garden gate in a flurry with a weird bird. There was some emulsions and lotions in his handkerchief this time. He used to work it for urchins. That handkerchief used to teem with sweet roasted chickpeas, delights, marshmallows at all times. He used to carry it as a little pack... My grandfather called that owl Rosebody and nursed without kip for days. I used to hear his voice from garden at small hours. He used to talk with it continuous as if it was understanding him. He used to get nervous sometimes and shout "Köftehor, get well now!" He used to roll up more cigarette, his namaz times used to delay anymore.

Then, the owl got well and began to roost upon the garden wall right away. There was a very special connection between them... I remembered the owl's dread glances suddenly: Null, silent, sometimes careful, clever... I had a habit in my childhood. I used to look at the wellhole's bottom with hang my body from its mouth in the long, hot and silent summer days. But I couldn't do it like that after the owl anymore. Because whenever I look at the wellhole's bottom, I used to flash the owl's eyes and I had got to funk the darkness. It hadn't been relishing throw stones to the wellhole's bottom and wait their sounds anymore. The wellhole was the owl's eyes, the darkness was its eyes. This fear turned into Rosebody phobia gradually. I wasn't wishing her pop up on a given day anymore.

One evening, I had ascended a black mulberry tree. I was eating ripe black mulberries with fun. There was so many black mulberry spots on my garb. My grandparents was making a fire with sticks and twigs at the heart of the garden. They used to smudge towards the evening every day. In this way, we used to sleep without gnats. The embers used to begin to twinkle with dusk... The foods will be given to cats and dogs, chickens will be put in coops and we will move in the house to evening meal. When the evening meal was cooking up, a bucked stone cold water is pumped the wellhole and made ayran (****) with it. The foods were smell butter always.

For a moment, when I just caught a biggest black mulberry, I had seen that the owl had descended steeply upon the chicks all of a sudden. The chicks were trying to run away from the owl in a flurry. A big panic was going on down. My grandfather had run in, snatched his gun and rushed onto the owl. (The gunshot is still in my ears as present.) When I got down, had looked at the owl which lie down in between the chick feathers with horror. Rosebody was dead. Its eyes were still open... My grandfather guarded it with squat, the gun in his hand, all night. He never smoked that night. He went to the mosque only on religious festivals from that day on. He stayed at home most of the time and pondered something by himself. Sometimes he rivetted on and said "Köftehor!"

Nothing is experienced again. I can't predict that it is good or not in a way at this moment. I am hungry, lonely and sad. I realize that Rosebody will stay always as an unfinished experience in my mind. I hope one day a real actress from Istanbul performs her once again. Now, I need a buddy... All I need a buddy and a real Istanbul night now.

I wish Rosebody too was here...

(*) A story from KANATSIZ DÜŞÜŞLER, 1991. Abridged version.

(**) Cultur and Tourism Department, Istanbul Municipality, Gülhane Art Festival, the first prize.

(***) A soft, simpathetic slang word. It almost means "meat lover", "meatball lover".

(****) Drink made of yogurt and water.

To Ugly King Yılmaz Güney's Memory... He had escaped from prison to France and died in 1984 there.

Sat, 27 May 2006 20:03:07 GMT

T H E F I G U R E A R T I S T * *

It was a boring afternoon. We had been talking about this and that with some movie maker friends in the bar. I don't know after how many times, we were champing to the same topics. No, this rusty film director is not a chatterbox; I was listening rather. Time flied and the bar got full jammed ones again. One more time, I found myself while moving about agitatedly at the heart of the hum of voices. I slinked from the bar one more time.

I looked at the parking attendant who screams after me for why I haven't paid the car park fee from driving mirror. Then, I bowed the mirror to my face... -This weary facial expression is not getting of me anymore.- I am thinking about my life while I drive off in irrecular and heavy traffic. I have to turn over a new loaf, but how? It is too hard to turn off some ex-pages. Something new... On the other hand, my brain is recording some double pictures on around: Two black chadored women, two traffic cops, two young girls in same clothes, two birds, two cats, two transexuals... I looked at the mirror again; my expression had relaxed. I fixed the mirror.

I gravitated to the suburb at a great speed. There was two villager women on the truck's body that goes before me. They were shaken but their eyes were on the fixed point... Soon, I saw a woman by the wayside. As if she had started up. I was feeling that a little trick will near start. I stopped to get her into the car. They say "sh*t find the other sh*t in the sinkhole". She was a red-haired blabermouth. Her dream was to be a movie star. Her teeth were off because of smoke. She was grinding out. She took out a cheap cognac bottle from her handbag and said "I am not a scrub"... But her cigarette wasn't cheap. While she reach to the car ash tray, I saw that her paps are treated roughly yet. When she saw my looking without restraint, began to palm my leg and then upwards of it. While she unzip my pants, I went astray to a first crossroad and surrendered to her in this godforsaken hole. When the woman makes an end of on me, I had almost run to a crag suddenly and jumped from there. We hit the road again. I leaved her to a gas station. She will never know that she closed her goul too much. She will never know...

When I saw the small wood that I know on the road, I leaved the car and began to walk. A country diner appeared over there. A couple of chicken had been running pari passu just before the dinner. I framed the picture with my fingers... I went in the dinner. There was some covers on the tables which got pale but very clean. It was a cute family business. They welcomed me jocund. The gaffer turned on the radio, the woman accomodated a cup of tea. Everything was calm as everybody. My flutter settled. I am easing off. I reclined with peace of mind and I thought for hours there. I thought, I kept some notes. I refreshed myself almost. I would go to home now.

I began to rake through all video casette archives as soon as I come home. I was trying to establish with my note, I was trying to discover someone, I was trying to form a texture. My brain will submit naturally that I search, without force. Gradually I got loose, I slept over my work... I woke up with door bell and gave my ears for it. Jeyan's high-heeled shoes answered the door, and... This is her little ballet student. They went to the studio part in the house and began to work. I listened their noises for a while. Then, I rewinded the video casette recording and kept on searching again. Suddenly I noticed a young man who has too elegant hand conducts. How I hadn't noticed him before?.. I rewinded over and over again and watched the same scene. I froze the frame at last. Had I found that I want? Where would I look for this dark and thin beatnik? As if his eyes and hands are belongs to the other body...

I settled down to work in no time. My chance fairy was knowing where she will pick up for the first time. I came in to the sole figure artist cafe that I know. Some figure artists had been talking away. I knew at sight of him. But is that he really? This man who tells something to the tea lady with rustic manners... After a moment hesitation, I walked to him. When he noticed me, he leaved rustic manners right away and mystified with an against time structuring. A sophisticated personality... A mature pose... Even his blink was changed. How come a human could change this much in a few moments?.. I tried to hide my confusion. I said him that I am a film director and also will begin to a new project. He said "what if we fail". I said there is no "we" yet. I am just to see you for now.

While we sit a table, he said that his name is Ilyas. We remained silent and exchanged glances a little while. Everything about project filtered from my mind and I saw through a ladder the entire structure in a snap. I had to catch up all my thoughts. I was hard pressed only some parts about him. I think I dragged out but okey. However Ilyas had been looking at me as if came to the other dimension. Adoration and aida were masked in his eyes. I was disturbed indistinct against that blinks but was pleased to find him. It was the man that I look for -not a person like he is- definitely he was.

I told everything to Jeyan at dinner. Even if the woman on the road. What was the concern but I did... Whole my body had awaken and I had been in a boyish emotion. Maybe this film will be a total that all I can do. There is no problem if I do nothing then. At least, I am thinking like that for now. I arose sometimes and indicated her that how I shall work on some scenes. Jeyan seems take heed as usual with her all introversion. When I saw that she doesn't join to my emotion, I stagnated. I leaved the house after reject her dessert offer. I wouldn't get down that gob which waits in a deep-freezer since thousand years to this energetic body.

It was rainy. I walked on and on without regard it. When my legs overdo, I stopped under a street lamp. I closed my eyes, turned my face to the rain and stayed there for a while. A deep sorrow passed through inside of me with cauterize. I composed myself right away and went back to home. I came to rest on the road sometimes, framed some pictures with my fingers. I was just like a magus.

It took a few days to organize a team. I tried every way that I know to convey information about the soul of film in first meeting. Either they or me had been observing that working plan will be trying for the first time. I think I was fearing but not to be fail. I was fearing to fall my purpose. Sometimes I was glimpsing involuntary to Ilyas. His gander was insistent again. Either everybody were mindful about it or everybody were unknowing. Should I get my way with myself or with him? I proceeded with my speech in a decided tone with ignore the contend of his glance. When the meeting is end, Ilyas was looking like depressed.

I wasn't see as a problem that I ever live before. The problem will be some surprises maybe. While the team make preparations for the first day take, there was some familiar creative tension on them. Actors and actress surrendered their faces to make-up artist's experienced hands one by one. There wasn't Ilyas only. But he would come at any moment. I wasn't want to think the opposite. We rehearsed a few times and took a tea break. Then a meal break, then a tea break again... As if something was cracking bit by bit. Time was flying slowly. Cigarette smokes were mixing to the air as leaks. Time passed, Ilyas didn't come. I canceled the take while I gravitate to my car.

I littered papers about the floor as soon as I come home. I was fearing to run out of my control. I took a deep breath and strode to the window. While I take some deep breaths, I saw a child in the stamping ground. He was riding bicycle on a circle continuously. However there was so many bike lanes over there... As if his docile facial expression will never wiped up. As if my childhood had come and stood facing me.

No, I shouldn't back down at first roughness. I should look up him in everywhere. Cafes, bars, streets, hollows... I leaved the house again. I scoured against time where ever I can find him. But nobody knows where he was. Nobody were know and everybody were know. Nobody were realizing what was happen, everybody was realizing. The easy walls had turned into the great ramparts. Everybody was ally, everybody was enemy... I had overdoed and as if this exhaustion will never end. I should rest. I should clarify everything again.

I couldn't fall asleep at night. I brooded, with pore to the up. When I feel Jeyan's spikes, turned to the other side, closed my eyes and began to take sleep breaths. Jeyan didn't believe it and sighed. I opened my eyes. She took some photographs which had fallen near the bedstead. They were some pictures of Ilyas which is taken so many different angles. She looked at them one by one and then turned her distrustful glance to me. I had repined so much. I closed my eyes. Her spikes pulled out to the living room. I felt that whiskey bottle touched softly to a glass. She wasn't drinking from way back... I couldn't sleep until the cock crow. I felt some glasses clinks from time to time. Then some caws mixed with that clinks. Then some car doors, automobile engines, then some human voices. I tumbled to the heart of a completely dark doss.

I woke up by phone ring. I startled and sat up. It was Ilyas. Somehow, I hadn't confounded. He had dead drunk. He was speaking hardly. He said that he wants to come to me. He spoke out: "I want to come to you." Unasked, unreservedly, fairly... I had no hope that he would come but I was excited. To say anxious is better... I took a shower in a hurry and gravitated to the living room. Jeyan had passed out on the sofa. I got her up from there and bring away to the bedroom. I had clasped her waist. She was taking steps orderly. Sometimes she was turning her face and looking at me as a child. I put her bed, blanketed kindly. Then I tidied up. But when I glimpse myself on the mirror... What was a stupidly in a flutter of excitement! I said "God damn!", "a dirty alcoholic figure artist will come in all. In all a swanky fifth class queen... I am director here!"

I lugged a seat to the window sill and sat on it. I should come to my senses... The child had been riding bicycle on a circle continuously again. When I feel the door bell, consulted my watch. How could he arrive before on time?.. I adjusted my hair and walked to the door. I opened the door but couldn't see anything because of the out of order automatic lights for a fleeting moment. Then I imagined that Ilyas there for one moment. Ilyas's picture displaced with Jeyan's student immediately. I realized that it was a game of my mind. I said her the lesson is cancelled. While the child stares stupidly, I closed the door. Then, I returned back to the seat. I decided to wait calmly. But time flied, Ilyas didn't come. I pored to out of the window all day long. While the sunset, I opened my eyes.

I was at a cave. Everything was misty. Some naked women were stooging. Ilyas was in between them. He was naked too. His phallus was towering from his puny body. As if there was an immunity curtain between women. He was looking at me with desire. There was a door between kip and vigil. I left ajar it instantaneous, smiled, while about close my eyes again I came on and came to my feet.

I was driving at a great speed. All my stabilities were upside down. It was a suicidal journey but not to kill a life; to kill a feeling, a habit, an existing... to kiss all of them goodbye. I drove out of town. I leaved the car in the grove, patted to the country dinner. But it was closed. As if it was deserted, besides as if nobody lived there, never...

I looked at television for days. I viewed even shitty programs. There must be a blow-off valve on people's head. I went popular bars and carried off all scrubs who couldn't work off to be a quarrelsome woman complex. I raped them before one can say jack robinson. After them carry back, I took a bath thoroughly. I felt nauseated every each time. I cut Jeyan dead who looks sexy and laid down myself. All I want was to sleep like a log. I had cleared at last. I would come back the bar small talks every nightfalls again. I would come back to that safety friendly chat...

Here we are!.. Here one of the same afternoons! Here the same people again. Let's drink friends. I love all of you... You don't mix up my feelings. You don't menace the hidden secret sides of me. Let's drink. Let's drink one more time. Chin chin... But suddenly I felt as if I got a smack to the heart of my forehead. Was it Ilyas?!.. He was just so standing near the door. I couldn't command my body, stood up and went by him. He was looking at me with admiration. We came back to the table together. I couldn't recognize myself. As if there wasn't any nutty break. We began to talk about project again. Would a human being completely voodoo? He knows that he was. I knew that I was looking at him with loss fright. However he was serene. He was reckless. As if he was know...

After the bar, I offered to take him away with my car, where ever he is staying. He accepted it. We never talked along the way. I felt that his eyes on me sometime; as if to say that he wants to goes down. I stopped. I wanted him promise to take without problem, with an ordinary tone. But he looked at my eyes with challenge first, then with insult... I ignored his looking. He opened the door with insouciance, got out of the car and cleared out right away. I looked around attentively... but he had gone.. While I go to my home, rethought all night. Was it real that I live?.. I looked at the car ash tray again, the butts were my only argument. He had chewed of his cigarettes end...

Everything was on an even keel fabulously in taking day. Even Ilyas had come. He played his role perfectly. I stood over every frame as if embed in my memory. Was it jerky Ilyas?.. This man is turning into quite different man while he is playing out.

Days after, I got clear of fear that if everything will be badly shaken... We almost had completed half of film. However Ilyas's insistent glances hadn't stopped but they weren't disturbing me anymore. Everything was under control. I was secure, cheerful and energetic. It was the time to improve a new contact with Jeyan now. I was whistling in a good spirits when I go to home.

Jeyan had been keeping on her student. I have rather to say, the student was doing something by herself, Jeyan was brooding with hands at the back of her head. When she noticed me, looked sourly and turned her face to the student. I realized that she was in wine at that moment. I dismissed that subject and came in. I called somebody about production. I was watching the child with bicycle at the same time. He was edding at his own circle... But he sheered suddenly and disappeared in one of the ways. Somehow, I was influenced too much. I considered about it, after replace the receiver. I took off it again and called a sidewalk cafe that I would find Ilyas... Why I did it?.. Maybe it was the time to sheer for me. Maybe it was the time to diverge from the beaten track... We compacted to meet somewhere with Ilyas. While I hang it up, turned towards the back with a weird feeling. Jeyan was there, holding a glass. She had heard that all what I said evidently. She drunk up and put the glass on the table rudely, came back to the near her student. I had grown uneasy but the meeting will come true still. I should look at his face without abstain anymore. The real power should be that. I said "come what may!" and dressed up rapidly. But I felt hesitation suddenly and slumped to the seat. I stayed there just so for a while.

Jeyan's student had gone. She came with a new whiskey glass and stayed just across from me. I was know that she was looking at me but I didn't turn my face to her. As if for the hell of it, she said that she sought divorce... And moved to the studio part with harsh spike taps. I was confused and uneasy. What had happened to the feelings of on an even keel?.. Sometimes no one can control to the life's ropes. And like now, some of that ropes are getting me up and driving to the door. That ropes are pushing me to Ilyas. It will happen...

There was no one at the meeting place. Maybe he had waited quite a while as sure as eggs. I searched him at cafes, bars at first; then I ran to the streets, then to the back alleys. I searched him everywhere. I asked him to everybody even freaks. They might be absolute friends for him. I scoured until the dawn. But I lost all hope about to find him at last. I had better to go my car which is so far from here now. I strode at a quick pace. Everything came in sight extreme absurd to me all of a sudden. I hit my forehead bith my fingers tip and ran to the crosspoint for to pass the main artery. But, while I go to the near the crosspoint's foot, I began to realize an indistinct figure. I gravitated there with suspicion, came near the indistinct figure. While I came near more, the indistinct figure turned into a man who is sitting down. It was very near but still indistinct... And the figure fell over to his alongside as a mass and his head knocked on to a big stone, he began to vomit simultaneously... I was very near to the figure now. I lit a match stick, closed up to his face... It was Ilyas. His glassy eyes were looking at the ground.

Before I go to the Ilyas's funeral, to his expedition, Jeyan was getting ready to leave our house and marriage. I didn't hinder her. I was realize that I will never see her again too. She said that she loved me nonetheless. I said "so do I". As if we becomed near to each other for a moment. But we diverged pari passu. While she come out of the house, I said "Don't change your desicion!" She looked at the floor with a deep disappointment.

Nobody had come to Ilyas's funeral, even his figure artist friends. It appears that they were punishing this key role candidate with an open jealousy at once for all. Either friendships or hostilities were coming to light simply with death. After to give tip, the grave digger went too. It was so sunny and this recklessness of nature was giving me pain. I put the unfinished film strip on tomb. The background sound has faded out and the square has frozen.

ON TALKING: There was an only star in the dead of night. The star's image was reflected to a deep hole's water. A big winged bird desired to get it from there and bring away to the sky again. But while it goes down to the well, its wings clashed to the walls. The bird too which is badly injured, stayed at the bottom of the well.

(*) Milliyet Art Review / August 01 1996.

(*) 1st Golden Cocoon Culture and Art Festival, Yılmaz Güney a Photograph and a Film Story Competition. The stake had given by Yılmaz Güney's wife Fatoş Güney.

genesis

Tue, 28 Mar 2006 19:42:39 GMT

HER NAME IS GENESIS

only curs are free

and they are shot

If there was no dog who has tied in the garden, nobody will notice there is some liver in that flivver. This is a garden which is limitless straight. Plainly, it was a flower garden once upon a time. As if, this poor looking house and old garden are hiding themselves from high street.

No one can go in this garden, even God, except me. But I know... I know, but, WomanWitch who has jar opened the window shade, is comatose, looking at me, looking just to my head.

I am sitting on the chaise longue which is on the waste soil like stone, since an hour. I am looking ahead, while the chaise longue is moving up and down even a little bit action. PrinceOnWhiteHorse didn't come today also. That geezer kicked me out from home once again. That gaga knows that there is no where to go for this VirginGirlBoy.

You know WomanWitch, but you don't aid me. You never helped me, why?.. I couldn't become free, in little escapes too. I always cried in single rooms, at dead streets which is open out to the sea. Nobody could understand, I always cried in far aways, that is why you didn't love me.

What a pathetic end of the day...

We are mouldering together with that couple of black mulberry trees. Its thin arms here and there. Without regard to its wormy body, it leaves last ripe fruits to the dirt.

She can't be without me too, I know. She can't live without another breath, under that waste roof. There must be someone who makes her authority felt, who makes her felt personality. There must be someone to shake with her eyes, to play with a smirk, then to quickly sweep past. She will struggle to see a hole in the ladder. When she peaks of the gin's zero altitude, there must be someone to butterfly gander.

I know she is looking at me now, just to my head. I'm sure, her overwrought face is confused as a downtrodden. Her bloody eyes on my hands now... on my face... on my hair... Look at me, I am the child you destroyed!.. She is fixing on her mind this image which is in a glass cage, in a flurry. Hurry uuup; a few minutes after, you will have a free memory!

Chaise longue is juddering while stand up quickly. I am casting a furtive glance up, dirty window shade's end is left. I am slouching to the snow white hairy DogHuman which waits for eat or trip. It is barking manic with an impatience and happily. On the other hand, it is making efforts to stand up on its back foots. Its front paws are rapidly moving up and down. I am putting trip collar, then getting out chain belt.

Have to wander of milk run today... While DogHuman insist to the ordinary road, I am walking to the other side. It is making several stand attacks a little while, but going in front of me fatality right away. We are going along the street. There is so many bazaar garbage on the big public square. We are hopping on them and coming soon to the mosque. I went by thousands of to that mosque yard's big door since my childhood. Maybe they will find me so weird but I am coming in. DogHuman is stopping for pee under the trees ones in a while.

There is some silent old people who has prayer beads. Some of them are talking with beside him. People who is looking for clear conscience, maybe who had find it.

They say, "there is no doubt in religious belief". They say, "religious belief gives clear conscience". Everything is becoming easier when you surrender yourself to religion. But if you responsible for all your doing, everything is so difficult.

Religious belief is unconditional accepting; it mean is turning over to conscience. Obey! Because God wants like that. They say, "religious belief is borne from trust and is also cause to arise to trust". When minds are faint, religious beliefs and religions are comes to people's help as a "Hızır". They say "people feel on the pavement, when they obeying to the unargued authority".

To be on pavement... To get unsuspicious... There is no answer for me in holy books. To be pavement... To be together... However I breaked off my origin, keep clear of love, keep clear of beliefs, keep clear of thyself... And always by oneself, in fear, scared, ambivalent.

Maybe there is no God. Maybe God idea is born from somebody who says that there must be a being which is more than intelligent from human being. Is there any being more than intelligent from human being?.. Between the devil and the deep blue sea. No, I will not think about it. Tiring work. But I am sure there is a religion for every one. Somebody will be happy with Messiah, somebody will with Mohammed... But there is always blood in every where and every time. Is there any way to pray without blood?.. Otherwise is harshness coming from God?.. Maybe a new prophet has come. We have to live at peace with to each other and with nature, without slain to life.

If I stop and talk with one of them... Maybe with that man who is sitting by himself. He is over middle aged, with white-bearded... But while I approach to him, he is looking to the way with worry... If I stop just now at the heart of the yard and whisper: "There is no God, there is only cosmic accord". I am sure, all their lips be herpes because of fear.

They are scared of some people's free mind as my mind. They are scared of people, humanly ideas so they are scared of to themselves. If such is the case, we don't scare to them. We leave them in the rough.

DogHuman is impatient. It is tugging me with agitated attacks. We are gravitating to the back door of the yard. We are leaping of a wall which is not so high. Main street is appearing down from station. Heavy traffic, hum of voices, illuminated letters... The street of Maltepe(*) has began to its night life. Somebody is walking with lurching; already drunk.

When DogHuman is ron down, I am going back to the other side. There is a park which is as if hidden in the background. A devil triangle at the heart of all these tide.

"Hey, don't step on!.."

"What?!.. Who is this?.. What I am stepping on?.." I understand, I am not alone.

"Owww!.. My birds feed!.. I was put on crumbs there. Watch it!.. You are stepping on it again!"

I am trying to see that crumbs on the ground, while trying to calm down to DogHuman. Then, I am looking to side of which is coming voice. A motionless silhouette... He is going on to talk as if who has a hard smoker old womanish: "Honey, here is a bank. Would you like to rest?.."

I am walking to the voice. When I come to near, recognizing a middle aged ManWoman and a ManBoy on the one of banks. I am sitting on the another bank.

Spectacled ManWoman looking at me with a winning smile. When he behaves rarely, his glasses is gleaming. ManBoy looks like a so calm person. He is standing up for a moment and looking so far aways and sitting to the ground. He is silent. His transient glances has smitten as if couldn't reach his goals. His down face is in pain. As if he is saying that "was that all?.." with silent words. He is supping something from a little cup once in a while. I feel it is raki because of smell.

"What is your name?.. No, no, don't say it!.. May I rename to you?"

"As you please..."

"Hummm... I am calling you as Genesis. Welcome Genesis to our life."

"Welcome to my life ManWoman... Welcome ManBoy."

ManWoman is falling about with that renames. Neon lights are following that gale.

ManBoy is silent.

An emptiness... This Maltepe nights are an emptiness. Always crowdedness and an emptiness. Always amusing and always emptiness. Dot dot lifes and emptiness. Lines that a bes without saying and emptiness. Something is growing up as a snowball in my heart. Why some memories are turning into leak one by one? The good old times... Even if there is no good old times... Why retrospestion with nostalgia, why?!.. Besides, have I a past?.. What is longing? Otherwise, longing name is hopelessness? A few human is coming together in a moment of the time, at a point of the cosmos... Is it just a coincidence?.. Completely different worlds, completely different experiences... Everybody is adding one another to thyself and making a new world there. Experiences are happening, worlds are happening, feelings are happening and becoming something new. Which is new... It is always ex's new. A new experience is appearing from ancient experiences. Then, that new experience is staying there, even it is not recuring to the mind as a memory. Maybe... People are proceeding on their own way for to meet each others again.

"If you look at the dark, you can see only darkness" said the ManWoman.

This cop out feeling is boring.

"You are always debate, aren't you? You always look at the dark and always think... Never mind, we all will wear to end as that wood's under."

This cypress is since long time here?..

"They lay to rest me which is beautiful. The grave has to be well-wooded and grass. I also want some sounds maybe purl. And a cypress too... It must be on foot that I can see easily."

I wish the ManWoman never stop talking, I wish he always talk in whispers...

It is usual to talking about death in a public park corner at Maltepe nights. It is usual to pledged to a stranger. It is definitely usual to give love to a stranger; to tell about expectations, hopes, dispairs and solitudes. But is it usual to ask for milk of human kindness from a B-girl?..

The ManWoman has gandered as in the clouds. He is coming to himself with a shy a little later. Maybe his white giant termites began to move again. If such is the case, has to kill them right away. He got the raki cup from ManBoy's hand and drunk up. ManBoy is looking into the cup quite a while and filling up it again.

ManBoy's face is just dreamy, as an old Rome image which is cutted warily. I don't know, I wonder, good lookers are ugly women as it is? But I am sure, ugly women are good lookers who is created with error. Luckily, God is not hear all these. God doesn't go in sweetheart subject's backyard. Besides, it is principal debtor to us forever. Because it loaded down us with every kind of pain and exiled to the earth. It added bountiful its own creativeness to our heart and leaved.

"Earth!.. It carry the earthling, harbour the dead... Is it time to mix with earth, how about it?" said the ManWoman.

A muscle is moving which is in my cheek. I am taking my hand to my cheek with anxiety... "You take it easy too!.. You are not one to reason whether for about catch black dead!"

As if ManWoman can't cry althought he wants. He is elongating to the raki cup with his shaking hands. I am drinking up it by rote. I know he gave me the death, served the death. Anyhow I have no another way to go.

Maltepe nights, a couple of owl eyes.

ManWoman is staying depressed breathless for a while. We, this three lots are listening to silence, to our own silence quite a while, at this small and in the background public park which is behind of mosque. This is me, in this terrific cosmos. Then DogHuman, ManWoman and ManBoy. What a magnificent crowded we are, what an unfounded isolation... And the solitudes which is in that hours are definitely multiple with others.

I hear a voice from far aways whose call me indistinct at times like this. Neither man nor woman. As if sHe is in sore need of help, as if in a great need of me.

Silence is got deep as a well. Maltepe is alive except it. Maltepe is alive with its drunks, passengers and also hookers. Maltepe is flying into the night with its all rushing of big city life. Maltepe is smelling raki, Maltepe is smelling woman, Maltepe is smelling hotel, Maltepe is smelling meat, Maltepe is craving with a maximum wild sex passion. Maltepe is tearing into the midnight with its all ferocity.

All voices, colors and smells are scratching my face. Where are you PrinceOnWhiteHorse?.. Everything is hurting my feelings, come and bring away to me!..

ManBoy is lighting up and elongating to ManWoman. ManWoman is getting it and smoking with satisfaction. He is reaching up harmonic and pointing opposite of buildings.

"They cut down to clear out for concrete blocks... Take of that concrete blocks Genesis. Take of..."

I took of concrete blocks, to a heap of concrete.

"Green... I see some immense grounds. There are one or two houses. One or two smoke holes which are smoke..."

"The smoke hole has to smoke."

"Pathways... There is about some trees, some animals, reptiles... A firefly... Or is it a ladybird?.."

I never seen a firefly. Otherwise is it called ladybird?.. I never seen a reptile. But I met some people who looks like it. Firefly however, I remember it from a nursery rhyme: "Fly, fly, my firefly / My mother will buy / slipper-shoe to you / when summer comes..." Liar! WomanWitch is a liar! You are all liar! My mother will never come again!

As if my childhood is not belongs to me. So far away, so strange. My knees was bleed in stream when I fall to the ground while running behind the street ice cream sellers. I was go to the grove to talk with trees in silent afternoons. I was listen to the arm's whispers as a song. I was get out my hard knitted hair and stay against to the wind. I was sit a side of magnificent river and watch some people which is cross it. I was think that one day my mother will plough plow of them and she will cross this side, will sit near me and hold my hand. Someday, I had tired to wait for she and cast away my doll, cast away to the drain away. It has edged away. I couldn't sleep that night. Maybe my doll has held up to a bushes, maybe wet, maybe cold... Maybe it was scared of the darkness.

"I will pick up fight, brother!"

"Pick up, brother. We weren't banging out way back..."

Two drunk's shouting is melted away with wind. DogHuman kept down. Buildings which are I had taken off, superseded one by one again. ManWoman began to crooned softly. Song is speaking about a man who has forget his name when he wake up in a morning. ManWoman is singing with deeply feelings. Sometimes he is setting up onto Maltepe's hum of voices. Sometimes his voices is turning into just like a whisper and fading out.

"How I feel weird my voice just now. How I feel myself woman, but this is a man voice!.."

ManWoman is becoming silent. But he is laughing like hell soon.

"Do you know, best of feminists are queens."

ManWoman is rubbing his face. When he takes his hand from his face, wry smile is disappearing which is a short while ego.

I want to go back to firefly's world but I can't. Traffic noise increased or it seems to be like that to me. A police whistle, from away... I feel cold.

I want to go far aways... I wish, qums would stick to my wet foots at a seaside, a firefly would set down to my hands. I wish, I take an ice cream from a street maker. I wish, I play hopscotch, while I lick ice cream up. I wish, longings would articulated with love... not with hopelessness.

DogHuman began to walk up and down. While every pass, it is putting its paws on my knees and nuzzling my hands. I am taking out its collar. It is darting in a flash and begin to go down from meadow hill which is streching to the main street. We are laughing all together with cheery.

It is so weird, ManBoy laughed too. As if he had to maintained silence on the ground. His motion is too slow, beyond of tread on eggs. As if he is in an all-out effort even he is reaching for a cigarette or raki. He never look at to my face. As if I am not there. As if he is behind of a frosted glass. I want him talk. Ah, please talk!.. But no, he will never talk. ManWoman is musing too. Everybody crept into their own skin. Everybody is living their own solitariness. And no one can reach to this solitariness.

I want to slink. But there is DogHuman... Or maybe I have to set free it. Maybe it has to go whereever it want. I wish DogHuman has gone forever, never come back again. I wish it has burst its fetters, never left its freedom. But... Don't go DogHuman, you are shot. You never know, freedom brings too previous death about here. They are killing to everyone which wants freedom. Hear me, if you have ears!.. Where is it?.. If I let it go, is it ensue me? Or have I to look up it down?..

Wind is began to pick up. Trees are soughing, other voices are fading out. There are some little sheets in the sky. Empty raki cup is flying at a great pace and falling to the lawn.

DogHuman is cropping up suddenly and it makes lighten to ManWoman. He is howling. I am arising and putting collar around DogHuman's neck.

"We are going."

ManBoy is sitting up and parking himself to a bank. ManWoman however, is taking a few steps to us. But when he saw that DogHuman is getting nervous for it, gravitating to a bank with exhausted steps. After the sitting down, he is looking to my face a little while.

"You... unable to see the wood for the trees... Mind out... to people, they are all rodent... Besides... fat persons are all selfish... never get fat... Now go..."

We are gravitating to the devil triangle's exit. DogHuman is flying, it is almost pulling me.

Rain is beginning big drops at first, then speeding up. It is a miraculous music!.. Blue, rain and flash are joined hands now. Rain is whipping to the ground, flash is lighting instantaneous and thunder. Thunder which comes with a big growl from deep sky...

My sadness will have done, when rain pass off. I will dry my hair with a towel and comb diligently. Then, I will lounge to my bed and while I look at the ceiling, I will think about there is something else for me at the beyonds of the day. While thinking, as per usual, I will sleep like a top. I will know, I will never catch to doze off moment.

Rain is angry, peevish and continual.

Finally, I am coming back home again... It is WomanWitch's home but that is all right... Anyway, for the time being, I am waiting for PrinceOnWhiteHorse here.

While I wait for cross the street, I see someone. He looks like a university student. His hands in his pocket, with a great insouciance, as if he is saying for rain "what the hell"; walking slow and with steady steps. When close up, we are smiling to each other with some heck and irony as if connections of long standing. His wet hair cohered to his wide forehead. He has lifted one of his eyebrows. His malars and chin are shinning. Rain drops are pelting running on his stretched peel.

PrinceOnWhiteHorse, stop... Turn around, don't go...

We are looking at to each other after the pass over, as if to keep in our memory. Maybe we will never see to each other again, but never forget too.

Alas, one more person who has fleeting out of my hands!.. You meet with someone quite by change in somewhere and break with him except to know to each other. It remains just a big blank in your heart.

I am mending my paces. DogHuman wants to walk slowly now. There is some spatters on it. Its hair is not snow-white ever. It is turning around and looking to my face once in a while with as if thankfully.

Torrential rain is getting slowdown. Weather is cool, but I don't feel cold. I am openning the garden door with routine steps and gravitating to the DogHuman's house. I am caressing to its head, after the chancing its collar. While I walk to home, it is yapping as if calling me. I am ascending the stair with quicker paces and coming in after a hardly shoulder to heavy iron door. A cloud which has gin smell on, its holding my face.

Maltepe is a couple of blood pot now. Hello WomanWitch, I don't need dope to indulge your whims. Queen time!.. Now, Bohemian Rhapsody time... and... and.

(*) Maltepe is an area from Ankara/Turkey.

From Kanatsız Düşüşler (1991). This is my first published story.