7/1/2023 0 Comments Snow orhan![]() ![]() He was sitting next to the window and wearing a thick charcoal coat he'd bought at a Frankfurt Kaufhof five years earlier. That's why our traveler had taken his bag on board with him the big dark-red Bally valise was now wedged between his legs. He'd managed to find it, an ancient Magirus, but the conductor had just shut the luggage compartment and, being "in a hurry," refused to open it again. He'd just come into the station on a bus from Istanbula snowy, stormy, two-day journeyand was rushing up and down the dirty wet corridors with his bag in tow, looking for his connection, when someone told him the bus for Kars was leaving immediately. He'd boarded the bus from Erzurum to Kars with only seconds to spare. If this were the beginning of a poem, he would have called the thing he felt inside him the silence of snow. ![]() The silence of snow, thought the man sitting just behind the bus driver. ![]()
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