Page 18 - Annonce 6

cared about myself, no doubt. Which meals that The Monk brought me back inside with two teas,
people around me like, what colour they like to “Tell me.”
get dressed in, their habits, their tendencies… I “Tell you what?”
involuntarily stocked them all in my mind. “Tell the words. I’ll make up a sentence.”

Getting to know people is my only investment in He sipped tea from the warmed glass with the tip
life. It allows me to continue on my way without of his lips.
being betrayed.
“That son…”
I thought about the Monk, I thought about Mrs. “Well…”
Sahika’s son. I tried to remember if I had seen him
before. I was struggling to remember how old he He was quiet for a bit, “Which part of it stuck in
was. I must have at least heard his name before. your mind?”
My mind was completely empty. “Well you didn’t say anything, at all.”

I couldn’t sleep, who was this boy? Mrs. Sahika He sat on the edge of the sofa, resting his elbows
had a child? I pushed myself so much and forced on his knees. He stopped looking at me. He had a
myself to think that I drew a silhouette of a son serious voice, I winced. What if it was a traumatic
who did not exist. I stared at the edge of my pillow death?
without blinking. I focused and focused. It did not
work. “Don’t get used to death.”

“Oya?” I was paralysed.

I found myself at Monk’s house. He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, a
vague grief was written all over his face.
“Come in.”
My expression did not change, “How so?”
It was not unusual, whenever I needed advice,
I knocked on the Monk’s door. Apart from that, “So, don’t get used to the idea of dying… I’m not
bread, milk, detergent; whatever ran out, I got dead.”
them from the Monk. Even if I could not sleep at
night, I went to him to play cards. I do not really
remember exactly why I was there that evening, Doğa Aslan
though. It was probably to interrogate him, to ask
him to tell about the dead son.

“What’s up, did you miss me?”
“Sure, it’s been a few hours not seeing you, so…”

I lied on the sofa in the living room. I stared at the
edge of it, felt the roughness of the fabric in my
hands.

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