Trafika Europe 12 - French Bon-Bons

SŞeyma Koç

winter night wasn’t here. Wind was scratching the windows, hitting the doors. The trees which cannot resist this cold, were dropping like pages of the calendar… I began to hide and collect my tomorrows. First I passed the boarding school exam and then college… I left here by taking every moment we lived as a memoire but it was like everything was beginning to complete or completing to begin again… One summer when I was at home after recess, the name, in the conversation of my mother and neighbours, drilled the past and arrived to my ear. I went closer to hear what they were talking about, curious. They were saying Aunt Şehriban can’t walk at all. A hand grasped my heart! Diabetes affected her legs. Her husband kept his hand off. He wasn’t visiting. He didn’t care. Such a bad conscience he had. They were depending on the municipal’s and neighbours’ aid. Berdeşan! He was changing the diapers of his mother. Five years younger than me, Berdeşan changing his mother ’s diaper? My heart went mad! The day after, after inquiring, we found the house she rented. She was living in a ruin. The door was opened jarringly. Everything I remember later was in a brown odour. It was a soul shattering odour. The melded odours …


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