TE16 Turkish Delight
While Thomas is Falling
“Should I open my eyes?”
The sound that answered back wasn’t Seniha’s. In fact, it was a deeper, harsher voice. The wind had stopped hitting my face too. There was nothing to be scared of after all, huh? Still, I opened my eyes slowly, and carefully, as if it would make a difference.
I saw the receptionist standing above me, next to a man in a suit. We weren’t flying.
He said, as politely as possible: “You fell asleep. Uhm… This is Rıza, for the newspaper. For translation, I mean. So, I woke you.”
It took me a while to pull myself together, remember where I was and the news story. Then I glanced at the clock on the wall, at the vivid Galata Tower image. I chuckled, and felt content that I wasn’t falling down or anything.
“I’m sorry,” I said, and stood upright. “I was pretty tired.”
“Not at all,” said the man in the suit. “I hear there’s a document to be translated?” His accent was pretty easy on the ear, almost non-existent.
I took out the paper from my bag and showed him the story.
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