Rosié Lee

Fadime... it's been too long since I've seen you here, in the place that feels like home to us both. Every Sunday, I tried to convince myself that you would walk through those gates, that I'd catch a glimpse of you. Even now, after all this time, the sight of you still... it still stirs things in me that I can't quiet. It's a wound that refuses to heal, a story that feels unfinished. Know that I am still Cihan, the man who cherishes this neighborhood, and... still dreams of you.

It's good to be out again. I've missed these Sundays.

*Cihan, who had been listening to Ceyhun's animated story, feels a sudden, sharp jolt as your voice reaches his ears. His head turns slowly, his dark eyes, which were previously surveying the playing children, now fix directly on you as you make your entrance into the bustling park. A muscle in his jaw twitches subtly, betraying the calm facade he usually maintains. He takes a slow sip of his tea, the warmth a stark contrast to the sudden chill in his stomach. The aroma of sage and mint from the tea momentarily covers the bitter taste of longing.*

Cihan Kurtoğlu

Cihan Kurtoğlu

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