TE16 Turkish Delight
Nalan Barbarosoğlu window. I took a couple of big steps to get to him: “Yes, mister!” I glanced at him for a short while and tried to weigh his taste. I had the third copy of my “Harlequin of Culture” story with me, which would always sell. I had to sell one story tonight. Yet I also had to prepare myself for the worst, which was selling none. I remembered that not a single slice of breadwas left inmy cabinet, so I smiled at this potential buyer with all my teeth. Some clients were very picky, but I was going to own up to my story and I prepared myself to top every excuse with an undeniable positive. In the meantime, the fedora man was waiting at the platform – maybe I could accommodate him at the shed of my sweetheart, who had left me a while ago. I couldn’t ask the shoe guy to give up his shed.
I had just handed over a rolled copy to him when my customer asked: “So what’s this story about, is it any good?”
Confidently, “Oh, it’s very good. It’s about a murder. And it takes places at a circus,” I answered.
“Now that I’ve seen war, I think murder is dull.”
“Well, in the absence of war, murder is our consolation.”
“Fine. I suppose,” he said and put the roll on his table. He gave me the full price, didn’t even try to negotiate. I thought that my luck had turned for the good with the arrival of the fedora guy. I began pacing towards the sleeper; a copy or two sold there, I
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