He was dressed, went down the stairs slowly in the morning of the loneliness and the silence. School bag on his back had
more than books. It was sign of years and a truly burden on his shoulder.
Downed darkness of the early time of the day seemed so suitable for this man.
He continued to walk, and he was in the
bus-stop, saw the very long queue, stood at the end of it hopelessly and had a
reckless lookup to barely shining sun. He thought about the late minibus while he was
losing himself in a blurry horizon as realisation of the possible future in the
clashing clouds. Time has passed, the line became crowded. He thinks he was
very behind of the line as he was not able to reach vehicle on time whereas the
end of the line was too far from the bus-stop that was not seen from the place
child stood. Minibus arrived with growls later. It did not look like others-it
was new, large, and clean and it had bright glasses. People started to get in
it. When it was full, boy ran front of the line and shouted through the door
"inside, inside". Driver immediately stopped and child jumped in. Boy
was used to travel standee. He put his bag on floor and got some change from
his pocket. He gave all coins to driver. They went long and long. There were
people to get in and get out of. Interior became crowded during the way. Time
had come at last. The child yelled to driver: "in an available place,
please". Man looked at him from the rear view mirror, quickly manoeuvred
vehicle to right side of the road, and opened the door. Minibus quickly
disappeared. Child crossed the street and stopped in front of the school. He
looked at it like a deep sigh was. Meanwhile pouring rain stopped and turned
into snow immediately. He quickly entered the building.
He imagined a story that can tell his all
feelings freely and honestly. It is certain that he cannot able to share his
own world to another people. It is a way to introduce flying images in his mind
by writing. Thus anybody can able to read and feel pity about him. His only and
biggest desire was that; asking for sympathy. His thoughts-in the form of a
story of life in Ankara ,
could tell the most beautiful expression. It comes to mind for every boarding minibus.
When he sees it, while he is passing near, being in Istanbul , touching gliding snow flakes at the
moment, feeling the summer heat on his head... All of these are the most
beautiful images which tell about the city. It is reflection on faces of people
of vain Ankara .
Loved it was, and a lot of about this city. To be frank; Istanbul
is legendary and awesome; however Ankara
is a huge part of him. He is totally dependent on Ankara desperately.