The trees were tired. They have been here for a long time, how new could the trees be in an old settlement; People used to erect concrete and iron under the name of the work. Moreover, a nice old tree was more valid than a new tree. The roads were tired. It had thousands of tires and millions of footprints on it. Apartments were tired. Countless rains were filed with countless winds. Houses, rooms, furniture were tired. There had been a lot of moving, each newcomer added a different experience to the rooms, walls, thresholds, doors. It was the exact place of the phrase "if it speaks even if it has a language". And maybe it was time to get them talking.
He was thinking about these while sipping his beer in the bar he was sitting in. For a moment, reaching for the glass in front of him, he looked at his hands, are you tired too? said.
He was shaking when his hands were empty, but when he grabbed the glass, that tremor suddenly disappeared. He thought of where his hands looked best. There was a mulberry tree he came out in his childhood, he thought that my hands must have rested while holding the last mulberry tree. If there was a happiness contest between the wrinkled mulberry t-shirt painted red and the ironed shirt currently on, a half smile hung in his mouth with his thought. I am not actually such a romantic person, he started looking left and right like looking at the way two beers brought me.
He overheard a fight of a couple sitting next to him. The woman was very angry, the sentences were scattered around in no time in her mouth. There was obviously too much garbage, he seemed to want to say all the accumulation of that garbage right away. On the contrary, the man was very calm, his eyes looking like he said, `` If this night is over, '' he said. It was read in the body language of both, whom they tired of each other a lot.
How was their first meeting, the man listening to them, thought. How many times they excitedly told each other about that mystical moment; their surprises, jokes, courtships, and much more, now none of them were on the table, among them, in their eyes.
He realized he was the testimony of a moment of separation. They would soon be up from the table, and they would have plenty of time to question their feelings of possession, belonging, being in a vacuum, jealousy, faltering, and forgetting.
And after a few moments, they would whisper words of love tiredly to a tired person like any circle of an apartment on a completely different street in another city.
Just until I got bored
He said, and as he sipped his beer his phone started ringing. He picked up the phone; And without even saying hello, the opposite voice said;
- I have the diary, if you won't buy it, I throw it!
Valentine Letters
I love walking past
With calligraphic and reflective steps.
It's also nice to be famous, to leave a mark, or to improve,
Still, this cold of ground in me does not stop.
Oh, if I could ask for your sake once too,
If I could say good morning to you on the street
If we met you in an evening fatigue or an untimely cemetery dream.
A folk song;
"Mah jemal is the sun or the moon?
The more I look at your face, the more I see it
Is your eyelash arrow crescent eyebrow your bow?
I take it and get it in my bosom. "
I miss you strangely, I don't know why but so many hands.
Solving questions should start with parentheses first,
Square roots and suck carburetors would say that our tutorials.
It has been a long time, actually we shouldn't expect anything from love.
But this time, be the sparkle,
I am the lonely dock.
I know I don't have high meanings in your eyes,
When I'm a dream
Even if you are very curious, you cannot step on the loyalty line.
It's not about you
I've been scribbling things for a long time.
As long as I do not neglect to look at my heart, I will continue to write black letters.
Good night from me!