TE16 Turkish Delight

Karin Karakaşlı head. “But that’s exactly the issue. She never thought it necessary to value herself. No one bothered to tell her either. I just wish, if she hadn’t given up on writing…people don’t really matter, but if she hadn’t spurned her creativity, turned her back on it, she might just have found her own strength, her vein there.” “I heard they’re preparing to publish her poems now,” said the captain, “and they put a special article in the paper about it. This must be what they call famous last words.” Grief descended upon the table and sat down like a fourth person, and they each drifted off in thought. Into the realm of agonizing possibilities and gut wrenching maybe’s. Then the young woman gave herself a shake. “Come on, gentlemen, brighten up a little. If she were here she’d have a smile on that darling face of hers. Raise your glasses and let us come together in spirit,” she said. Yunus and the captain reached for their glasses right away. Their toasts rang out in her honor. “Please, could you read that poemyou read at hergraveside again?” asked Yunus. The woman didn’t demur. She closed her eyes and, clutching her glass, recited:

STONE OF DESTINY

Destiny was a tiny purple stone that, even when I held it, was not at all in my hands. Belonging to me, but beyond me never staying mine.

I threw it into the sea along with a wish so that my wish may become my destiny. It would either come true Or once I grew up, I’d forget.

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