SU AND THE RIVER OF TIME

Su was a young writer who owned a small bookstore in Kızılay, one of Ankara’s busiest districts. Every morning, before opening her shop, she had made it a habit to take a short walk.

That morning was no different. As usual, she left home, placed a few books in her bag, and got off the bus in front of Emek Business Center in Kızılay. After crossing the street, she stopped by the simit stand on the corner of Güvenpark. She bought a simit .

She sat on one of the empty benches at the corner of the park. The morning chill had not yet lifted. Pigeons milling about nearby approached him, as if waiting for the small pieces he tore off his simit. She ate his simit while watching the morning crowd in the park. People rushing to work, the bustle at the bus stops, and the sunlight filtering through the trees gave Kızılay its usual lively appearance.

She thought the day would be no different from any other. In a few minutes, she would open her bookstore, arrange the newly arrived books on the shelves, and perhaps write a few more pages of her new novel. She had no idea that only a few minutes remained before the event that would change her life forever.

Su took another sip of her tea, enjoying the quiet comfort of a new day. As she watched the pigeons, the people walking through the park, and the morning bustle of Kızılay, her thoughts began to drift.

Suddenly, the sounds around her seemed to fade into the distance.

It was as if time itself were slowing down.

The moment she looked up, the sight before her took her breath away.

A flowing, slightly transparent curtain made up of countless glowing particles surrounded her. Billions of tiny specks drifted endlessly, carried by an invisible wind, moving like gentle waves without ever separating from one another. The curtain was neither completely visible nor completely invisible; it was as if time itself had become a delicate veil spread across the world.

Su blinked several times.

What she was seeing was not mist…

It was not light, either.

It was something entirely different — something she had never encountered before and could not explain.

Acting on instinct, she slowly reached out her hand.

She expected her fingers to touch the transparent curtain.

But her hand met nothing.

It was as though the strange curtain before her could only be seen, never touched.

She pulled her hand back in sudden fear.

At that very moment, the flowing curtain of millions of glowing particles quietly dissolved, as if it had never existed, and disappeared before her eyes.

Su remained perfectly still for several seconds.

Her heart was beating fast.

At that moment, she knew what she had seen was not an illusion.

Every detail had been far too real to be explained as an ordinary trick of the eyes.

Su took a deep breath. She blinked several times.

Güvenpark looked exactly as it had only a few seconds earlier. People were hurrying toward the bus stops, pigeons wandered around the benches, and the simit vendor was handing cups of tea to new customers.

“I guess I just drifted off for a moment,” she murmured to herself.

She tossed the last remaining pieces of her simit to the pigeons, slung her bag over her shoulder, and stood up.

She paused for a moment and looked back at the place where she had been sitting.

Everything looked perfectly normal.

She gave a slight shake of her head and decided to forget what had happened, at least for now. Perhaps the novel she had been working on for days had simply left her mind exhausted and playing strange tricks on her.

He left Güvenpark and headed towards the Emek Office Building. He crossed the street, turned onto Ziya Gökalp Avenue, then turned right onto Karanfil Street.

When she reached the middle of the street, the sign of the small bookstore she had run for years greeted her, just as it always did.

“Su’s Bookstore.”

She paused briefly in front of the door. Taking her keys from her pocket, she unlocked it. She slowly raised the shutter and stepped inside through the glass door.

The familiar scent of old books filled the shop. Wooden shelves stretching all the way to the ceiling were home to thousands of books. The morning sunlight streamed through the window, falling across the shelves and giving the bookstore a warm, welcoming atmosphere.

Su placed her bag behind the counter, turned on her computer, and opened the file of the novel she was currently writing.

Just as she was about to type the first sentence…

The strange, transparent curtain she had seen that morning in Güvenpark appeared before her eyes once again.

This time, it lasted for only a second.

Su jumped to her feet.

Her heart was beating faster than ever.

What she had seen now looked far too real to be nothing more than a hallucination.

Su sat down at her desk, but she could not stop thinking about what had happened that morning.

She stared at the computer screen, yet she could not write a single line.

“What was that thing I saw?” she wondered.

Her eyes settled on the pen lying on the desk.

Without realizing it, she began focusing all her attention on it.

At that very moment…

The transparent curtain she had seen that morning in Güvenpark appeared once again.

This time, it was clearer.

Billions of glowing particles flowed silently, surrounding the room like a delicate veil.

Su sprang to her feet in fright.

The curtain had vanished again.

She took a deep breath.

For a while, she walked slowly around the room.

Then she returned to her desk.

This time, she decided to test it on purpose.

She fixed her eyes on the clock hanging on the opposite wall.

Without thinking about anything else, she focused only on the clock.

A few seconds later…

The curtain appeared once more.

Su smiled in astonishment.

The moment she turned her head, the curtain disappeared again.

She repeated the same experiment with the bookshelves, the window, and the book lying on the desk.

The result never changed.

Whenever she focused all her attention on a single point, the flowing, transparent curtain appeared.

The moment her concentration was broken, the curtain quietly vanished as if it had never existed.

Su now understood that this was no coincidence.

The mysterious curtain appeared only when her mind was completely focused.

Su continued her experiments.

This time, she fixed her eyes on the old brass paperweight resting on her desk. She focused all her attention on it.

A few seconds later, the transparent curtain appeared once again.

But this time, it was not alone.

She could make out faint vibrations rising from around the paperweight. Pale golden lines spread silently across the metal’s surface, expanding outward in invisible rings.

In astonishment, she turned her gaze toward the wooden bookshelf beside her.

The curtain disappeared.

She focused again.

This time, a soft vibration appeared around the wood, completely different from the one surrounding the metal. It glowed in warm shades of brown, as though every grain of the wood was slowly breathing.

Su’s curiosity grew even stronger.

Glass, metal, wood, paper…

No matter which object she focused on, each one revealed its own unique energy pattern, unlike any other.

Until that moment, she had believed everyone was looking at the same world.

Now, she was beginning to think that there might be an entirely different layer of reality — one that the human eye could not normally see.

Su tried to push the strange experience to the back of her mind. She realized that no matter how much she thought about it, she would not find an answer for now.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the manuscript of her novel on the computer screen and continued writing.

As her fingers moved quickly across the keyboard, she lost track of time. One page after another filled with words as the scenes that had been taking shape in her mind for days finally came to life.

From time to time, she paused to think and turned her eyes toward the books on her desk. Whenever she focused all her attention on a single point, the transparent curtain briefly appeared again, revealing the mysterious vibrations surrounding the objects before quietly fading away.

Su was no longer afraid.

Instead, she was trying to understand how this new world she had begun to see actually worked.

After a while, she lifted her hands from the keyboard.

When she looked at the clock beside her desk, she realized that the afternoon had arrived.

She smiled.

“I deserve a coffee break,” she murmured.

She put her computer into sleep mode, locked the bookstore, and stepped out.

She started walking toward the small café in Sakarya, a place she had made a habit of visiting every day.

As always, the crowds of Kızılay filled the streets. People hurried from one place to another, the aroma of coffee drifted out of the cafés, and shopkeepers welcomed customers at the entrances to their stores.

As Su walked through the crowd, part of her mind was still searching for an answer to the mystery of the transparent curtain.

Perhaps what she was about to experience today would provide the first clue.

She picked up her usual order from the döner shop on the corner — a portion of döner and a glass of ayran.

After a short lunch break, she returned to her bookstore on Karanfil Street.

She unlocked the door and stepped inside. The quietness of the bookstore drew her back into the world of writing.

She sat down at her computer, opened the manuscript of her novel, and continued where she had left off.

As the minutes passed, she found herself completely absorbed in her story once again.

Just as she was writing a new paragraph, her eyes fell on the fountain pen resting on the desk.

Without realizing it, she focused all her attention on the pen.

Suddenly…

The flowing, semi-transparent curtain made of billions of glowing particles appeared once again.

This time, the curtain looked more vivid.

Delicate blue rings of light pulsed around the pen, while the wooden surface of the desk gave off a soft energy in warm shades of brown.

Su took a deep breath.

She now knew what caused it to appear.

The moment her concentration broke, the curtain quietly dissolved and became invisible.

That was exactly what happened.

As soon as she turned her head slightly, the millions of glowing particles scattered, and the room returned to normal.

Su smiled.

“So… it really appears when I concentrate,” she whispered.

She turned back to her computer and continued writing.

At that very moment, the bell above the bookstore door rang.

Chime…

The door slowly opened.

Thinking that a customer had come in, Su looked up.

A young man, perhaps in his late twenties, stood in the doorway. He had black hair and almond-shaped eyes. The clothes he was wearing did not seem to belong to the present day. Looking around in astonishment, he examined everything as though he were trying to understand a world he had never seen before.

The expression on Su’s face froze instantly.

Her heart began to race.

Her lips trembled.

She managed to utter only a single sound.

“…W…”

Because she knew the young man standing in the doorway all too well.

He was the main character of the novel she had started writing only a few minutes earlier.

Wu…

But that was impossible.

Wu was only a fictional character who existed in the lines on her computer screen.

So how…

…was he standing before her, alive and in the flesh?

For several seconds, neither of them said a word.

Su was the first to break the silence.

She took a deep breath, stood up, and slowly walked over to Wu.

Wu remained where he was, standing perfectly still as he looked around the bookstore with blank eyes. His gaze wandered over the books on the shelves, the old photographs of Ankara hanging on the walls, and the street outside the window. It was as though he could not make sense of anything he was seeing.

As Su watched the confusion on the young man’s face, she searched for answers to the questions racing through her own mind. Only a few minutes earlier, he had existed only in the lines on her computer screen. Now he was standing before her, alive and in the flesh.

Wu slowly came back to himself.

He turned his eyes toward Su.

“What… happened to this place?” he asked.

After a brief pause, he asked a second question.

“What year… is it now?”

Su did not answer immediately. She reached toward the nearby chair and gestured for him to sit down.

“Please… have a seat first.”

Wu quietly sat down.

Su took the chair opposite him. For several seconds, they simply looked at each other.

The same question was on both their minds.

What was happening here?

Su remembered the strange events she had experienced that morning. The Time Curtain… the mysterious visions that appeared whenever she focused. She could think of no other logical explanation. The young man sitting before her had to be connected to all of it.

She took a deep breath.

“What is your name?” she asked.

The young man answered without the slightest hesitation.

“Wu.”

Su’s heart began to race once again.

That was his name in her novel as well.

Trying not to reveal anything in her voice, she asked her second question.

“What do you do?”

“I’m a photographer.”

Su remained silent for a few seconds.

Exactly as she had written.

She turned to her computer, opened the manuscript of her novel, and turned the screen toward Wu.

“Could you read this?”

Wu leaned toward the screen.

He began reading the lines carefully.

“Wu slung his camera over his shoulder. As he walked from Ulus Square toward Anafartalar Street…”

Suddenly, he stopped.

His eyebrows drew together.

He read the passage again from the beginning.

Then he slowly raised his head.

“This…”

A brief silence followed.

“…is my life.”

Su’s eyes widened.

“What do you mean?”

Without taking his eyes off the computer screen, Wu replied,

“I’ve lived everything written here.”

Su felt a lump rise in her throat.

“Then…”

“Do you know what year it is today?”

Wu looked at her in surprise.

“Of course I do.”

“1947.”

The silence in the room grew even heavier.

Su listened to everything Wu told her without saying a single word. The questions in her mind kept growing, and she could not find a single logical answer to any of them.

For a moment, almost without realizing it, she focused on Wu’s face once again.

The flowing, semi-transparent curtain made of billions of glowing particles appeared once more.

This time, it surrounded not only Wu but the entire bookstore.

The shelves, the books, the walls, and the windows began to ripple like reflections on the surface of water.

Su tried to lift her head.

A low humming filled her ears for several seconds.

When she opened her eyes again, the first thing she noticed was the silence.

There were no sounds of traffic coming from Karanfil Street, nor the familiar scent of the bookstore…

She looked around in astonishment.

The bookstore had disappeared.

She and Wu were sitting side by side on one of the wooden benches in the square in front of the Presidential Concert Tent.

A few meters away, the waters of the fountain popularly known as the Water Fairies sparkled in the sunlight.

Behind them stood the magnificent Uybadin Mansion.

Su could not speak.

Wu was looking around with the same astonishment.

The clothes of the people crossing the square, the way they walked, and the atmosphere around them were completely different from the world they had been in only moments before.

Before either of them could understand how it had happened, another moment of silence and a slight tremor passed through them, and they suddenly found themselves back in Su’s bookstore, sitting exactly where they had been before.

Su and Wu could not say a single word for several seconds.

They were both sitting in the same wooden chairs.

It was as though they had never gone anywhere.

Yet only a few seconds earlier, they had found themselves in a completely different place.

The Presidential Concert Tent…

The Water Fairies Fountain…

Uybadin Mansion…

All of them had been right before their eyes only moments earlier.

Then…

Everything disappeared.

Now they were back in Su’s small bookstore, sitting in the very same chairs.

Su slowly stood up.

Her hands were still trembling.

She walked over to the window.

Karanfil Street was exactly where it had always been.

People were walking along the sidewalk.

The aroma of coffee drifted from the café across the street.

Everything looked perfectly normal.

But what they had experienced only a few seconds earlier was anything but normal.

Wu quietly stood up as well.

He walked toward the door.

He looked outside through the glass.

For a while, he said nothing.

Then he slowly turned around.

“…What did we just experience?”

Su could not answer.

She was asking herself the very same question.

Had they really gone there?

Or had they simply shared the same vision?

Su returned to her desk.

The computer was still on.

The manuscript of her novel remained open on the screen.

It was as though nothing had happened only a few seconds earlier.

A strange chill ran through her.

Wu looked at the computer screen as well.

Then he turned to Su.

“I told you that I’ve lived everything written on that computer.”

Su nodded.

“Yes.”

Wu remained silent for a few seconds.

“Do you know what comes next?”

Su looked at the screen in surprise.

The manuscript ended with the last sentence she had written.

The page below it was completely blank.

She slowly shook her head.

“No.”

Wu looked at the empty page as well.

Then he spoke quietly.

“Neither do I.”

Su frowned.

“But you’re the main character of this story.”

Without taking his eyes off the computer screen, Wu replied.

“Yes.”

“I’ve lived everything that has been written.”

“But I don’t know anything that hasn’t been written.”

Silence settled over the room once again.

Su took a deep breath.

For the first time, she spoke the thought that had been running through her mind.

“Then the story doesn’t end here.”

Wu slowly raised his head.

“No.”

“I think… it’s only just beginning.”

They remained silent for a long time.

A deep silence filled the bookstore.

Nothing could be heard except the steady ticking of the wall clock.

Neither Su nor Wu had yet recovered from what they had just experienced.

The Presidential Concert Tent…

The Water Fairies Fountain…

Uybadin Mansion…

It had all lasted only a few seconds.

Yet they had both been there, seen the same people, and felt the same wind.

It was not something that could be explained by having the same dream.

Su took a deep breath.

“Let’s try it again.”

Wu looked at her in surprise.

“Try what?”

“The curtain.”

Wu quietly nodded.

Su turned her eyes toward the old photograph of Ankara hanging on the opposite wall of the bookstore.

She focused on the brass clock hanging beside it.

She tried not to think about anything.

She simply looked.

A few seconds passed.

Then…

The familiar humming returned.

Billions of glowing particles began to flow silently through the room.

The curtain was forming again.

This time, Wu said nothing.

He simply watched the change in Su’s face.

The curtain was denser than ever before.

The glowing particles were not only drifting through the room; they seemed to pass straight through the walls.

Suddenly, the bookshelves began to ripple.

The wooden shelves became transparent.

The walls trembled like the surface of water.

Then everything disappeared.

Su blinked.

They were no longer in the bookstore.

The two of them were standing in front of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in Ankara during the 1930s.

In astonishment, they looked toward the open land stretching out before them.

Years later, this place would become Gençlik Park.

But now…

There was no Exhibition Hall.

No Gençlik Park.

And no lake.

The ground stretched out completely flat.

On the right, Bankalar Street could be seen.

At the corner stood the Ottoman Bank, and right beside it, the construction of the Evkaf Apartment Building was still underway.

A little farther away, Belvü Hotel and the Civil Servants’ Houses could be seen.

On the empty land, a few workers were driving stakes into the ground, taking measurements, and talking animatedly while studying the plans in their hands.

Nothing had been built yet.

Wu looked around in amazement.

“This place…” he murmured.

Su whispered,

“The future site of Gençlik Park.”

They both held their breath.

Even the sounds carried by the wind were different.

In the distance, the whistle of a steam locomotive echoed through the air.

Horse-drawn carriages moved slowly along, their horses’ hooves striking the stone road in a steady rhythm.

Wu looked as though he was about to speak.

Then, at that very moment…

Everything began to ripple once again.

Countless particles of light surrounded them.

The empty land started to dissolve.

The ground faded away.

The sky broke apart.

The stone walls of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs melted like mist.

A moment later…

The two of them were sitting once again in their chairs inside the bookstore.

The silence had returned.

The wall clock continued ticking, and the familiar hum of Karanfil Street drifted in from outside.

Neither of them could speak for several seconds.

Wu looked at his hands first.

Then he looked around.

Su was still breathing heavily.

She was the first to break the silence.

“That wasn’t just a vision.”

Wu nodded.

“No.”

“We were there.”

Su spoke slowly.

“I felt the wind.”

“I could smell the earth.”

“I heard the workers talking.”

Wu added,

“So did I.”

Silence fell once again.

Su was trying to gather her thoughts.

At last, she whispered,

“The curtain…”

“…doesn’t just show us things.”

Wu listened to her carefully.

Su continued.

“When I focus, reality changes.”

Wu’s expression turned serious.

“So… we’re not watching the past.”

Su slowly shook her head.

“No.”

“We’re stepping into the past.”

Wu took a deep breath.

“But why?”

Su looked out the window.

Karanfil Street was exactly as it had always been.

People were walking by.

Cars passed along the street.

No one had the slightest idea that, only a few seconds earlier, two people had traveled to another time and returned.

Su turned her eyes back to Wu.

“I think that’s exactly what we have to find out.”

Neither of them realized it at that moment. This was only the first of the pasts that the River of Time would reveal to them.

Neither of them spoke for a long time.

Su had her hands clasped together.

Wu, meanwhile, was studying the inside of the bookstore, as if trying to decide whether what they had experienced only minutes earlier had really happened.

Wu was the first to break the silence.

“Was that… real?”

Su took a deep breath before answering.

“I don’t know.”

“But I felt the wind.”

“I could smell the earth.”

“I saw the people who were there.”

Wu nodded.

“So did I.”

They both fell silent again.

Su picked up the fountain pen lying on the desk.

“I’ve written thousands of pages in my life.”

“I know how to imagine.”

“But imagination doesn’t feel this real.”

Wu listened to her carefully.

“Are you afraid?”

Su smiled faintly.

“Yes.”

“I’m afraid of myself.”

Wu frowned.

“Why?”

“Because there are only two possible answers.”

“Either we’re really traveling to other times…”

“…or I’m losing my mind.”

Wu thought for a few seconds.

“There’s a third possibility.”

Su looked up.

“What is it?”

“Neither.”

Su looked at him in surprise.

“Then what?”

Wu touched the book lying on the desk.

“Maybe the world we believe is real isn’t as simple as we think.”

Su looked out the window.

People were walking outside.

Cars passed by.

It looked as though there was nothing extraordinary happening in anyone’s life.

“They don’t notice anything.”

Wu looked outside as well.

“Maybe they can’t.”

“Can’t notice what?”

“What we can see.”

Su took a deep breath.

“It first happened in Güvenpark.”

“Then it happened here.”

“In both cases, the only thing they had in common was my focus.”

Wu immediately asked,

“What do you feel when you focus?”

Su thought for a few seconds.

“It’s strange… it’s as if all the sounds around me drift away.”

“Time slows down.”

“Then the curtain appears.”

Wu listened carefully.

“Does the curtain appear… or do you simply begin to see it?”

The question left Su speechless.

She had never thought about it that way.

After a while, she spoke slowly.

“Maybe the curtain never actually appears.”

Wu waited without saying a word.

Su continued.

“Maybe the curtain has always been there.”

“I’m just beginning to see it.”

Wu nodded.

“That makes much more sense to me.”

Su looked at him in surprise.

“What makes sense?”

Wu began to speak thoughtfully.

“Dogs can hear sounds that we can’t.”

“Bees can see colors that are invisible to us.”

“Bats find their way in the dark by using sound.”

“They all live in the same world we do.”

“But they don’t perceive that world the way we do.”

He paused for a moment.

“I read somewhere…”

“Some people spend years meditating.”

“Others can focus on a single point with extraordinary concentration.”

“There were studies suggesting that these people perceive the world around them differently.”

“Maybe what you’re experiencing is something like that.”

Su sank into thought.

“So when I focus, my brain begins to perceive something it normally can’t.”

Wu slowly shook his head.

“I think it’s bigger than that.”

Su looked at him curiously.

“Why?”

“Because you’re not the only one seeing it.”

“I see it too.”

“I go to those places with you.”

“So it can’t be explained by your brain alone.”

Su said nothing.

It was true…

If the problem were only her own perception…

Wu wouldn’t be able to feel the same wind.

He wouldn’t be able to stand on the same ground.

He wouldn’t be able to see the same people.

Wu spoke quietly.

“I don’t think your brain is what’s different.”

Su asked in surprise,

“Then what is?”

Wu thought for a few seconds before answering.

“Maybe when you focus, your brain begins to perceive a layer of reality that is normally filtered out.”

“But you’re not the one taking us there.”

Su frowned.

“Then who is?”

Wu looked out the window.

Karanfil Street was as lively as ever.

People kept walking, and life continued in its ordinary rhythm.

Then he spoke quietly.

“That’s what we don’t know yet.”

They remained silent for a long time.

This time, the silence inside the bookstore was not unsettling.

It was as if they had both realized that, after what they had just experienced, they could never return to their old lives.

Su walked over to the window.

Karanfil Street was just as it had always been.

People hurried along the sidewalk.

A child was riding a bicycle.

Laughter drifted from the café across the street.

Nothing outside had changed.

The only ones who had changed were them.

Wu broke the silence.

“What are you thinking?”

Su kept her eyes on the street.

“I’m thinking about one thing.”

“If we’re really traveling into the past, why doesn’t anyone there notice us?”

Wu did not answer right away.

He thought for a moment.

“I think they do.”

Su turned around.

“What do you mean?”

“One of the workers looked at us several times.”

“He stopped just before driving the stake into the ground.”

“It was as if he could see us.”

Su tried to remember that moment.

She realized he was right…

The man had stopped for a few seconds.

He had turned his head toward where they were standing.

Then he had gone back to his work as though nothing had happened.

Wu spoke again.

“Maybe we’re not strangers there.”

Su looked at him in surprise.

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe time accepts us.”

“But it only allows us to observe.”

Su fell into thought.

“So we’re really there.”

“But we can’t interfere with the course of events.”

Wu nodded.

“At least, not yet.”

Su caught that last phrase.

“‘Not yet’?”

Wu shrugged.

“I don’t know.”

“We don’t know yet.”

“Maybe the curtain only shows us as much as it is meant to.”

Su returned to the desk.

She unfolded the old map of Ankara lying on it.

She placed her finger first on Güvenpark.

Then on the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

She stared at the map for a long time.

Wu waited quietly.

Suddenly, Su spoke.

“First, Güvenpark.”

“Then the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.”

“They’re both among Ankara’s oldest memories.”

Wu nodded.

“That’s true.”

“These aren’t ordinary places.”

Su kept studying the map.

“Did you notice something?”

“The curtain has never taken us to a random place.”

Wu thought about it.

It was true…

Every place they had visited had left its mark on Ankara’s history.

After a while, he spoke slowly.

“Maybe time doesn’t remember people.”

“Maybe it remembers cities.”

Those words drew Su into a deep silence.

She had written countless novels throughout her life.

But for the first time, none of her stories had ever felt as powerful as this thought.

Cities…

They were destroyed.

They were built again.

People came and went.

But the city continued to remember through the River of Time.

Su took a deep breath.

“Then we’re not traveling through time.”

Wu looked at her attentively.

“What do you mean?”

Su spoke slowly.

“Maybe all moments in time exist at once.”

“The past…”

“The present…”

“The future…”

“They all flow within the same river.”

Wu listened in silence.

Su continued.

“When the curtain opens, that river carries us wherever its current leads.”

“Sometimes to the 1930s.”

“Sometimes to another time.”

“We don’t choose where we go.”

Wu nodded.

“So the curtain only opens the door.”

“And time chooses the path.”

Su smiled faintly.

“And carries us through Ankara’s memory.”

Wu looked out the window.

Outside, people continued with their lives.

None of them knew that, only a few minutes earlier, two people had traveled to another time and returned.

At last, he took a deep breath.

“I think the real journey is only just beginning.”

They remained silent for a long time.

This time, the silence inside the bookstore was not unsettling.

It was as if, after what they had just experienced, they both understood that they could never return to their old lives.

Su walked over to the window.

Karanfil Street looked just as it always had.

People hurried to work, while others sat outside the cafés, sipping their coffee and chatting.

Life continued to flow as though nothing had happened.

Yet only a few minutes earlier, the two of them had walked through another time.

Wu broke the silence.

“What are you thinking?”

Without taking her eyes off the street, Su answered.

“Something is missing.”

“What is it?”

“Why?”

Wu looked puzzled.

“What do you mean, why?”

“Why me?”

“Why you?”

“Why Ankara?”

Wu walked over to the table and unfolded the old map of Ankara.

He placed his finger on Güvenpark.

Then he pointed to the location of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

“The first place we went.”

“Then this one.”

“Neither of them was chosen at random.”

Su looked at the map.

“What do they have in common?”

Wu took a deep breath.

“Ankara.”

“No.”

“Ankara’s memory.”

Those two words lingered in the room for a long time.

Su slowly sat down.

“Cities live longer than people.”

Wu nodded.

“Maybe time doesn’t remember people.”

“Maybe it remembers cities.”

Su remained silent for a long time.

At last, she whispered,

“Then we’re not traveling through time.”

Wu looked at her attentively.

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe all moments in time exist at the same time.”

“The past.”

“The present.”

“The future.”

“They all exist in the same place.”

“When the curtain opens, we pass between those moments.”

Wu thought for a moment.

“So time is like a river.”

Su smiled.

“Yes.”

“We don’t choose the river’s direction.”

“The river carries us to whichever shore it chooses.”

Wu walked over to the window.

He watched the street outside for a while.

Then he spoke quietly.

“Have you ever thought about something?”

“What?”

“Maybe we only think we’re living through all of this.”

Su frowned.

“What do you mean?”

Wu pointed to the notebook on the table.

“You’re writing a novel.”

“The people in your novel believe they’re making their own decisions.”

Su smiled.

“Because that’s how they experience it.”

This time, Wu looked directly into Su’s eyes.

“What if that’s how we experience it too?”

A heavy silence settled over the room.

For the first time, Su considered that possibility.

Her heart began to race.

“No… That can’t be possible.”

Wu didn’t answer.

At that very moment, the pages of the notebook on Su’s desk began to turn slowly, even though there wasn’t the slightest breeze in the room.

They both froze.

The pages turned one by one.

Then they stopped.

At the bottom of the open page, there was only a single sentence.

“Wu didn’t answer.”

They looked at each other.

That was exactly what had just happened.

With trembling hands, Su turned the page.

The line beneath it was not yet complete.

Only a few words had been written.

“They looked at each other…”

Su slowly raised her head.

“How… is this possible?”

For the first time, the expression on Wu’s face changed.

He was afraid.

Truly afraid.

“Maybe time isn’t only showing us the past.”

Su held her breath.

“Then what is it showing us?”

Wu’s eyes remained fixed on the open page.

“Maybe… it’s showing us what hasn’t happened yet.”

At that moment, one more word appeared at the bottom of the page.

“Silence.”

Neither of them spoke.

Because they were both thinking the same thing.

If everything that was written came true…

Then who was writing what had not yet been written?

Outside the bookstore, life went on as usual.

People walked by.

Cars passed along the street.

No one knew.

Inside a small bookstore on Karanfil Street, two people had begun, for the first time, to question whether not only time, but perhaps even their own lives, were as free as they had always believed.

Wu was the first to notice the time.

The old clock on the wall showed nine o’clock.

Wu smiled faintly.

“I think time has surprised us enough for one day.”

For the first time, Su laughed.

“Yes.”

“We’ll continue tomorrow.”

She carefully gathered the maps from the table.

She placed the old photographs inside the drawer.

She switched off the lights in the bookstore.

As she locked the door, she looked inside one last time.

It was as though everything that had happened only moments before had remained inside that little bookstore.

Karanfil Street had grown cooler.

The gentle breeze of the summer evening stirred the leaves on the trees.

The cafés were still full of people.

Young people were laughing, and street musicians were playing the last songs of the day.

Without saying a word, they began to walk.

They entered the metro underpass through the Karanfil Street entrance of Emek Business Center.

As they walked down the stairs, the sound of people’s footsteps blended together.

After crossing to the other side, they waited at the bus stop.

A short while later, a bus heading toward Çankaya arrived.

They took seats by the window.

The bus rolled slowly along Atatürk Boulevard.

Kızılay faded behind them.

The lights of Kuğulu Park came into view.

A little later, Atakule rose magnificently against the night sky.

They got off the bus at the top of Cinnah Hill.

Su pointed to the four-story apartment building beside the bus stop.

“We’re here.”

They went inside the building.

The elevator stopped on the third floor.

Su unlocked the door.

The moment Wu stepped inside, he walked toward the large window in the living room.

Ankara stretched out beneath his feet.

Thousands of lights reached all the way to the horizon.

Atakule shone in the night directly in front of the window.

Wu whispered in admiration,

“This city is even more beautiful at night.”

Su walked into the kitchen.

“That’s enough research for today.”

“Now it’s just time for dinner.”

A short while later, a warm evening meal was waiting on the table.

For the first time throughout the meal, they talked not about time, but about their childhoods, the books they had read, and Ankara.

As the evening wore on, the tension between them slowly began to fade.

After dinner, Su prepared two cups of tea.

They stood by the window, quietly watching Ankara’s night skyline.

The city was gradually growing quieter.

Wu set his teacup on the windowsill.

“Strange.”

Su turned toward him.

“What is?”

“How many hours did we actually live today?”

Su smiled faintly.

“Just an ordinary day.”

Wu shook his head.

“Are you sure?”

“In the space of a few hours, we traveled through decades.”

Su didn’t answer.

Her eyes were lost among the lights of Ankara.

At that moment…

The vision she had seen several times before appeared once again.

Billions of glowing particles began to move silently.

This time, she wasn’t surprised.

Only a deep silence settled around them.

…

The wind…

The sound of birds, the distant laughter of children, they both opened their eyes at the same moment.

They were sitting on white wooden benches.

In front of them was a round ornamental fountain.

The water in the fountain reflected not the moonlight…

But the afternoon sun.

Elegantly dressed people strolled around them.

Most of the men wore fedoras.

The women walked gracefully in their long skirts and elegant hats.

The trees around the square were still young.

Wu slowly stood up.

“Where are we?”

Su looked around.

Her eyes widened.

“This is Kızılay Garden.”

Wu whispered,

“What year is it?”

Su carefully studied the buildings across from them.

There were no tall buildings yet.

The white benches surrounding the fountain looked brand new.

“I think… the late 1930s.”

Without speaking, they began to take in their surroundings.

Before them stretched Kızılay Garden in all its vibrant life.

To the right, along Milli Müdafaa Avenue, they could see the Civil Servants’ Houses and Güvenpark.

To the left stood Uybadin Mansion and the Soysal Apartment Buildings.

It was as if the city, like its people, was breathing.

Every stone…

Every tree…

Every person…

They were the unwritten first lines of today’s Ankara.

Just as they were about to take a few steps…

The wind changed direction once again.

In the blink of an eye…

The same living room.

The same window.

Atakule once again.

Steam was still rising from their teacups.

Wu looked at the clock in astonishment.

Only three seconds had passed.

Neither of them spoke for a long time.

At last, Su took a deep breath.

“This time, the river called time carried us away.”

Wu slowly shook his head.

“No.”

“I don’t think time carries us at random.”

“It makes its own choice.”

“And we still don’t know why.”

Silence settled over the room once again.

Outside, Ankara shimmered in all its splendor.

Inside, two people were slowly beginning to understand that time was not merely a doorway into the past, but perhaps a phenomenon with a will of its own — something the human mind had yet to comprehend.

Morning sunlight slipped gently into the living room.

Su was already awake, standing by the window.

Freed from the glow of the night, Atakule had taken on an entirely different appearance beneath the first light of morning.

The thin veil of mist hanging over the city was slowly lifting as Ankara prepared for a new day.

Wu came into the living room.

“Did you get any sleep?”

Su smiled.

“A little.”

Wu stepped over to the window.

“What are we going to do today?”

Without taking her eyes off the city, Su replied,

“We’re going to try to understand what happened yesterday.”

After a quick breakfast, they left the apartment.

The air was cool.

The summer sun had not yet become oppressive.

“Let’s not wait for the bus,” Su said.

“Let’s walk.”

Wu smiled.

“Ankara is more beautiful on foot.”

They began walking down Cinnah Avenue.

After passing Kuğulu Park, they reached the long downhill stretch that every resident of Ankara had enjoyed walking at least once.

The gentle breeze filtering through the trees still carried the freshness of the morning.

People hurried to work.

Some walked briskly, while others ran toward the bus stops with coffee cups in their hands.

The two of them kept walking at an unhurried pace.

Before long, Kızılay Square unfolded before them in all its liveliness.

Buses pulled in and out of their stops, and the square buzzed with its usual energy.

They bought two warm simits from the vendor at the entrance to Yüksel Street.

The elderly vendor handed them over with a smile.

“Enjoy your meal.”

They thanked him and walked into Karanfil Street.

Su unlocked the bookstore.

The coolness of the early morning still lingered inside.

While Wu prepared the tea, Su placed the simits on the table.

They ate breakfast in silence for a while.

The sounds of Karanfil Street drifted in through the open door.

People passed by, and the shops opened their shutters one by one.

Wu took a sip of his tea.

“I still can’t believe what happened last night was real.”

Su didn’t answer.

Her eyes were once again fixed on the street.

At that very moment…

A deep silence settled over everything.

The street itself had not changed.

People continued walking.

Cars kept passing by.

But Su had begun to perceive that phenomenon she had seen so many times before.

Billions of glowing particles flowed silently through the air.

From the expression on Su’s face, Wu knew something was happening.

He said nothing.

Neither of them moved.

Suddenly, a strong gust of wind struck their faces.

The sound of old-fashioned car wheels echoed across the stone-paved street.

Gençlik Park had already been built, and the Exhibition Hall stood completed. Across from them, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs rose in all its grandeur.

Civil servants in suits walked up and down the building’s steps, while black automobiles and horse-drawn carriages moved slowly along the avenue.

Su took a deep breath.

“We’re here again.”

Wu looked around carefully.

“The first place we ever came to.”

Su nodded.

“Yes.”

Without taking his eyes off the building, Wu spoke.

“I’ve noticed something.”

“What is it?”

“The last time we came here, it was a different year. The Exhibition Hall wasn’t here. Neither Gençlik Park nor the Turkish Aeronautical Association building existed.”

“That’s right.”

“But the Ministry of Foreign Affairs was exactly the same.”

Su looked at the building once more.

Wu continued.

“The people have changed.”

“The cars have changed.”

“The clothes have changed.”

“New buildings have been constructed.”

“But as the River of Time flows past this place, it has never changed this building.”

Su remained silent for a long time.

hen she spoke quietly.

“Because perhaps it hasn’t needed to change yet.”

For the first time, Wu looked genuinely excited.

“What do you mean?”

Su kept her eyes fixed on the building.

“Imagine a river.”

“It flows through the same riverbed for years.”

“It gradually changes everything along its course.”

“It wears away the soil.”

“In some places, it widens its bed.”

“In others, it changes direction.”

“But it does all of this within its own natural order.”

Wu listened carefully.

Su continued.

“Maybe time works the same way.”

“It doesn’t transform cities all at once.”

“It changes them little by little.”

“Structures that have fulfilled their purpose give way to new ones.”

“New squares emerge.”

“People change.”

“But all of it happens within the natural flow of time.”

Wu nodded thoughtfully.

“Then natural change is time itself.”

For the first time, Su looked directly into Wu’s eyes.

“Yes.”

“Maybe it is.”

At that very moment…

The wind grew stronger once again.

The Ministry of Foreign Affairs slowly began to fade before their eyes.

In the span of a single blink, they found themselves back inside the bookstore on Karanfil Street.

Steam was still rising from their teacups.

The simits on the table remained exactly as they had left them.

Wu was the first to speak.

“I can’t stop thinking about what you said back there.”

Su listened quietly.

Wu continued.

“If time really flows like a river, then natural change forms the riverbed.”

He fell silent for a moment.

Then he added softly,

“But what if people try to force that riverbed to change?”

Su frowned.

“What do you mean?”

Wu pulled the map of Ankara toward him.

“Maybe some buildings are more than just stone and concrete.”

“Maybe they’re part of the natural balance created by time.”

“And if that balance is forced by human hands, then it isn’t only a building that is destroyed.”

Su finished the sentence.

“Maybe the natural flow of time itself is wounded.”

They both fell silent.

They looked down at the map of Ankara spread across the table.

What lay before them was no longer just a map of a city.

Perhaps it was a map of the traces time had left behind.

Su studied the old map of Ankara on the table.

Wu stood in front of the large board they had hung on the wall.

The first note had already been added beneath the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

✓ The Ministry of Foreign Affairs remained unchanged.

Beside it was another small note.

“Time followed its natural course.”

Wu picked up the pen.

“Let’s try another year today.”

Su nodded.

“We won’t be able to choose where we go.”

“I know.”

“We can’t choose the year either.”

Su closed her eyes.

She took a deep breath.

“Then we’ll record the places we visit, the years they’re in, and whether they’ve changed… and eventually we’ll reach a conclusion.”

The room fell silent.

The door stood open.

The sounds drifting in from Karanfil Street slowly began to fade away.

As she looked at the map, she focused once more.

The glowing particles flowed without ever touching one another, and Su watched them in silence.

Then…

Once again, a deep silence…

A gentle breeze began to blow.

…

They opened their eyes to find themselves standing at the edge of a wide avenue.

Wu was the first to speak.

“Where are we?”

Su looked around.

“İstiklal Avenue…”

Across from them stood the Belvü Hotel.

Several guests were seated on its balconies, looking out over the city and the park.

A few children ran past them.

A soldier walked along the sidewalk.

Across the street, municipal workers were planting young trees.

Wu looked around in admiration.

“So once again, time chose for us.”

Su nodded.

“Yes.”

Wu took a small notebook from his pocket.

“Observation One.”

“Belvü Hotel.”

“Observation Two.”

“The two-story embassy buildings, originally built as Civil Servants’ Houses, stand in front of the hotel.”

“Observation Three.”

“The avenue has been widened.”

“Observation Four.”

“The Ministry of Foreign Affairs is still here.”

Su turned toward the building.

It was exactly as she had seen it only minutes before.

Years had passed.

The city had grown.

New buildings had appeared.

But the Ministry of Foreign Affairs had remained unchanged.

Wu spoke thoughtfully.

“Interesting…”

“What is?”

“Time doesn’t erase the old before its time.”

“When the time comes, it simply builds something new beside it — or on top of it.”

Su remained silent for a long moment.

Then she spoke softly.

“Maybe that’s exactly what we call natural change… what we call progress.”

For a while, they quietly observed their surroundings.

No one noticed them.

Not a single person looked into their eyes.

It was as though they were there…

Yet they did not belong to that time.

Suddenly, the wind rose again.

Once more, a deep silence settled around them.

…

They found themselves back inside the bookstore.

The tea was still warm.

Wu walked straight over to the board.

He picked up the pen.

Then he added a new entry.

Belvü Hotel

✓ Belvü Hotel in operation.(But here, too — like at the Belvü Hotel and the Civil Servants’ Lodgings, which will eventually be forcibly demolished to make way for new structures — the Central Bank stands as if the river of time has come to a halt.)

✓ Civil Servants’ Houses and the foreign embassy buildings in operation.

✓ New roads have been opened.

✓ Tree planting has begun.

✓ Ministry of Foreign Affairs unchanged.

Wu stepped back and studied the board for a long time.

“One more example.”

Su nodded.

“But a single example proves nothing.”

Wu smiled.

“Isn’t that exactly how science works?”

They both laughed.

Su unfolded the map of Ankara on the table.

She moved her finger to Ulus.

“I hope our next journey takes us to an even earlier year… or another place.”

Wu asked curiously,

“Why?”

Without taking her eyes off the map, Su answered,

“Because it’s just as important to look for evidence that could disprove a hypothesis as it is to find evidence that supports it.”

Wu was silent for a few seconds.

Then he smiled.

“I think we’re truly doing research now.”

Several days passed.

The board hanging on the wall gradually filled with new notes.

Su had spread old maps of Ankara, photographs, and newspaper clippings across the table.

Wu was quietly examining old photographs of the Grand Post Office.

After a while, he looked up.

“Come and look at this.”

Su stepped closer to the photograph.

The Grand Post Office stood in all its grandeur on Bankalar Avenue, between the Lausanne Hotel and the Boys’ Vocational School.

In the newer photograph beside it, the present-day PTT building stood on the same site.

Wu opened his notebook.

“The old building was demolished.”

“A new one was built in its place.”

Su nodded.

“But notice something.”

“The location is still the same.”

“And so is its function.”

Wu studied the photograph thoughtfully.

“So as the city grew, the old building gave way to one that was more functional.”

Su unfolded the map in front of her.

“Maybe this is the natural flow of time.”

“As needs change, the city renews itself.”

Wu wrote it down on the board.

Grand Post Office

✓ The old building was removed.

✓ A new building serving the same function was constructed.

✓ The service continued.

Beneath it, he added a small note.

“Possible natural change.”

At that moment, Su’s attention was drawn to another photograph.

There was only a single line beneath it.

Ministry of Education.

Another newspaper clipping carried the headline:

“Building Completely Destroyed in Overnight Fire.”

Wu placed several newspapers side by side.

Then he spoke quietly.

“Interesting…”

“What is?”

“With the Grand Post Office, the need changed first.”

“Then the building was replaced.”

“But here…”

“…the building disappeared first.”

Su said nothing.

She continued studying the newspapers carefully.

The reports about the cause of the fire contradicted one another.

There was no definitive explanation.

After a long silence, Wu spoke softly.

“Do you think this was part of the natural flow of time too?”

Su didn’t answer immediately.

She looked for a long time at the two photographs pinned to the board.

On one side, the Grand Post Office.

On the other, the Ministry of Education.

Then she spoke quietly.

“I don’t know.”

“But they don’t feel the same.”

“Why?”

“The Grand Post Office seems to have fulfilled its purpose.”

“It was replaced by a new building serving the same function.”

“But here…”

“…the building disappeared first.”

“What came afterward followed a very different path.”

Wu picked up his pen.

He wrote a new heading on the board.

Ministry of Education

✓ Destroyed by fire.

✓ Later replaced by a different type of building.

✓ The process appears different from natural change.

In the notes section, he wrote only one sentence.

“The River of Time forced and fractured by intervention.”

Wu stepped back several paces from the board.

“So maybe not every destruction happens for the same reason.”

Su nodded.

“If the River of Time truly exists, perhaps there’s a difference between natural change and sudden change imposed by human hands.”

Wu smiled.

“Then we need to find more examples that can prove it.”

Su looked at the notes on the board.

There were still more questions than answers.

But with every new observation, another piece of the unseen picture was beginning to emerge.

Kızılay Building

Several more days passed.

New photographs had been added to the board.

This time, different photographs of Kızılay Square from various years lay spread across the table.

Wu picked up the older photograph.

“Do you remember this place?”

Su studied it for a long time.

At the corner of the square, the Kızılay Building stood in all its grandeur.

She slowly nodded.

“I remember.”

“The River of Time brought us here.”

“We stood looking at this building for a long time.”

Wu looked at the same photograph.

“Back then, I thought it was just an old building.”

He placed the second photograph beside it.

On the same corner now stood a massive shopping mall.

A long silence settled between the two photographs.

Su pulled a stack of old newspaper clippings toward her.

“The Kızılay Building lost its protected status.”

“Not long afterward, it was demolished.”

Wu turned his eyes toward the board.

“Ministry of Education — fire.”

“Kızılay Building — demolition.”

Su nodded.

“They both shared the same fate.”

Wu picked up his pen.

He wrote a new heading on the board.

Kızılay Building

✓ Building of the humanitarian organization.

✓ Protected status removed.

✓ Demolished.

✓ Replaced by a new building serving a different function.

In the notes section, he wrote a short sentence.

“The Breaking of the River of Time.”

He set the pen back on the table.

“This example resembles the Ministry of Education.”

Su looked at the three headings on the board.

Grand Post Office.

Ministry of Education.

Kızılay Building.

They said nothing for a while.

Then Su spoke softly.

“There was change at the Grand Post Office.”

“But here, it isn’t change.”

“It’s a break.”

Wu didn’t reply.

He didn’t add another sentence beneath the notes on the board.

They both knew…

For now, they were only recording what they observed.

Time itself would reveal the rest.

Ankara Palas

The following day, a new file was added to the photographs on the board.

Only one name was written on the cover.

Ankara Palas

Wu picked up the old photograph.

“I remember this place too.”

Su smiled.

“The River of Time brought us here as well.”

“In the early years of the Republic, it was one of Ankara’s most magnificent buildings.”

Wu placed a present-day photograph on the table.

He compared the two pictures for a long time.

At last, he smiled faintly.

“It hasn’t changed at all.”

Su nodded.

“Of course, it has undergone minor restorations.”

“But the building itself is still the same.”

Wu glanced through the old newspaper clippings.

There had been no major fire.

No sudden demolition.

No replacement building erected in its place.

He picked up his pen.

He wrote a new heading on the board.

Ankara Palas

✓ Preserved.

✓ Restored in keeping with the original design.

✓ Although its function changed over time, the building itself has survived.

In the notes section, he added a short sentence.

“The natural flow of the River of Time.”

He set the pen down.

Su looked at the board.

“Grand Post Office… natural change.”

“Ankara Palas… natural continuity.”

Wu nodded.

“So the River of Time doesn’t erase every old building.”

Su smiled.

“Maybe the River of Time leaves behind what is meant to remain.”

The two of them stood quietly, looking at the board.

For the first time, their hypothesis was being supported not only by destroyed buildings, but also by one that had been preserved.

As usual, Su and Wu were sitting on the upper floor of the döner restaurant on Sakarya Street.

As they ate, Su’s eyes drifted toward the flower shop across the street.

At that very moment, the familiar phenomenon she had grown accustomed to appeared once again.

Billions of glowing particles silently emerged in the air.

As everything around them slowly faded, time began to flow once more.

A few seconds later, they found themselves standing in front of the Second Grand National Assembly, directly opposite Ankara Palas.

Without speaking, they began to observe their surroundings.

In the spacious garden of the Second Assembly, facing the railway station, people were resting on benches around the fountain, while children ran beneath the shade of the trees.

Across the street, Ankara Palas rose in all its grandeur.

Behind it stood the Ziraat Bank building and the Belvü Hotel.

A little farther to the left, the Court of Accounts building stretched across from the City Bazaar.

At the end of the avenue stood the First Grand National Assembly in all its simplicity.

The monument in Ulus Square and Taşhan, standing just beside it, were inseparable parts of the same great scene.

Su and Wu said nothing.

They simply engraved everything they saw into their memories.

A deep silence settled around them.

The glowing particles surrounded them once again.

In the brief span of a single blink, they found themselves back in the bookstore on Karanfil Street.

Without wasting a second, Wu hurried to the board.

He opened his notebook.

One by one, he began writing down every detail they had seen.

Taşhan

Several days had passed.

This time, Wu spread old photographs of Ulus Square across the table.

In the first photograph, Taşhan still stood in all its grandeur.

Right beside it rose one of the first Ankara buildings of Türkiye İş Bankası.

Su studied the photographs for a long time.

“The River of Time brought us here too.”

“That day, we only looked at the square.”

“Now we’re looking at the past with different eyes.”

Wu placed a present-day photograph beside the old one.

Taşhan was no longer there.

In its place stood the Sümerbank building.

İş Bankası, however, still stood on the same corner.

A long silence settled between the two photographs.

Wu leafed through the old newspaper clippings.

He carefully read the reports describing how the Sümerbank building had been constructed after Taşhan was removed.

Then he looked up.

“Interesting…”

“What is?”

“I don’t see the kind of sudden break we saw with the Ministry of Education.”

“Neither do I.”

Su examined the photographs once more.

“One building disappeared.”

“But another building serving the life of the city took its place.”

Wu nodded thoughtfully.

“And İş Bankası remained where it was.”

“So not every old building has to change.”

He picked up his pen.

He wrote a new heading on the board.

Taşhan

✓ Replaced by the Sümerbank building.

✓ Transformed into a new function as part of the city’s development.

İş Bankası

✓ Preserved.

✓ Continued to serve its place in the life of the city.

In the notes section, he wrote a short sentence.

“The River of Time does not interfere with the natural change that allows development to move forward.”

He set the pen down.

Su studied the notes on the board for a long time.

“Sometimes time preserves the old.”

“Sometimes it allows it to give way to something new.”

Wu smiled.

“What matters is that the change happens within its natural course.”

The two of them stood quietly, looking at the board.

Their hypothesis was now beginning to explain not only destruction, but also the changes that time itself seemed to permit.

Gençlik Park

Several more days passed.

As usual, Su and Wu were in the bookstore on Karanfil Street.

The photographs spread across the table had become silent witnesses to Ankara’s entire past.

Without realizing it, Su found herself staring at the little bell above the shop door.

Then the familiar phenomenon appeared once again.

The curtain of billions of shimmering particles came into view.

Wu said nothing.

By now, he knew it marked the beginning of another journey through time.

They found themselves in the years before Gençlik Park had been built.

Before them stretched wide vegetable gardens.

People sat beneath the shade of the trees, while families enjoyed picnics.

A little farther away stood the modest building of the Parks and Gardens Directorate.

Su and Wu quietly observed their surroundings.

After a while, time began to flow once more.

The same place now revealed an entirely different scene.

Broad walking paths…

Pools…

Resting areas surrounded by trees…

The laughter of children…

An amusement park…

A vast park in the heart of the city, where people could breathe…

Wu remained silent for a long time.

At last, he broke the silence.

“Nothing has disappeared here.”

Su nodded.

“No.”

“The city changed here.”

“It changed and grew in response to people’s needs.”

The glowing particles surrounded them once again.

A few seconds later, they found themselves back in the bookstore on Karanfil Street.

Wu walked straight over to the board.

He picked up his pen.

He wrote a new heading.

Gençlik Park

✓ The site’s former use has changed.

✓ Opened as a public space for everyone.

✓ Given a new function in the life of the city.

In the notes section, he added a short sentence.

“The River of Time allows the natural change that paves the way for progress.”

Su looked at the board.

She thought for a while.

Then she spoke softly.

“So the real issue isn’t preserving the old.”

“It’s being able to adapt to time.”

Wu nodded.

“And sometimes a place reaches its true value by changing.”

The two of them quietly looked at the board.

The notes on it no longer told the story of buildings alone — they were now telling the story of Ankara’s journey through time.

Güvenpark

Several more days passed.

Su and Wu were once again in the bookstore on Karanfil Street.

The notes on the board grew more numerous with each passing day.

For a brief moment, Su turned her eyes toward the window across the room.

At that very instant, the familiar phenomenon appeared once again.

Billions of glowing particles silently emerged throughout the bookstore.

Everything slowly began to fade.

In the brief span of a single blink, they found themselves standing in the middle of Güvenpark.

Before them stretched the Republic’s first public park in all its grandeur.

Directly opposite it stood the Kızılay Building.

People strolled along the park’s broad walkways, while children played around the fountain.

Those seated on the benches were reading newspapers, chatting, and enjoying the peaceful afternoon in Ankara.

Su looked around for a long time.

“It was so spacious…”

Wu nodded.

“Very different from what it is today.”

The two of them continued to observe their surroundings in silence.

The monument was still there.

The trees were still there.

The park was a vast living space in the very heart of the city, giving people room to breathe.

After a while, the glowing particles began to appear once more.

The scene slowly changed.

This time, they found themselves standing at the same spot in present-day Güvenpark.

The Güven Monument was still there.

Most of the trees had survived.

But the park was no longer as large as it had once been.

Part of it had taken on a different appearance because of transportation developments.

The buildings surrounding it, however, had changed completely.

Su and Wu said nothing for a long time.

Then time began to flow once again.

A moment later, they found themselves back in the bookstore on Karanfil Street.

Wu walked straight to the board.

He picked up his pen.

He wrote a new heading.

Güvenpark

✓ The Republic’s first public park.

✓ The Güven Monument has been preserved.

✓ The park has continued to exist.

✓ Its surroundings and the way it is used have changed over time.

In the notes section, he added a short sentence.

“If change does not bring progress, then forced intervention dries up the River of Time.”

Su read the note on the board.

“So that means…”

“The mindset of I need this, so I’ll make it happen no matter what may not really be progress.”

“In the long run, it may actually cause harm.”

“What should happen ought to happen naturally — not be forced.”

The two of them silently looked at the board.

Sometimes Ankara changed.

And sometimes it was changed.

Augustus Temple

Several days had passed.

Su and Wu were once again in the bookstore on Karanfil Street.

The notes on the board about Ankara’s past were growing day by day. Both of them sensed they were approaching the end, that something was finally about to become clear.

The moment Su picked up the pen on her desk, the familiar phenomenon appeared once again.

Billions of glowing particles silently filled the bookstore.

Everything slowly began to fade.

A moment later, the two of them found themselves in a place neither of them recognized.

The sounds of stonemasons echoed all around them.

Massive marble blocks were being moved with cranes and wooden sledges, while dozens of workers labored tirelessly.

Wu quietly looked around.

“Where are we?”

Su turned her eyes toward the structure rising before them.

“The Temple of Augustus…”

Without speaking, they began to watch the construction.

Right beside the area where the temple was rising, the remains of older ruined walls could still be seen.

Su looked carefully.

“It looks as though there was another structure here before.”

Wu nodded.

“It certainly seems that way.”

At that moment, time began to flow again.

The scene changed rapidly.

As the old ruins slowly disappeared from view, the walls of the new temple began to rise in their place.

Wu whispered in amazement.

“So the new temple was built on top of the old sacred site.”

Su remained silent for a long time.

Then she spoke softly.

“The old one wasn’t destroyed.”

“A new era was built upon it.”

Wu nodded.

“One civilization came to an end.”

“But the sacredness of the place continued to live on.”

The glowing particles surrounded them once again.

In the brief span of a single blink, they found themselves back in the bookstore on Karanfil Street.

Wu walked straight over to the board.

He picked up his pen.

He wrote a new heading.

Temple of Augustus

✓ Built upon an older sacred site.

✓ The traces of the earlier structure were preserved.

✓ Has survived for nearly two thousand years.

In the notes section, he added a short sentence.

“The River of Time does not destroy functionality; it reshapes it according to the changes each age requires.”

Su read the words for a long time.

Then she walked toward the window.

“Perhaps true preservation doesn’t mean never changing anything.”

Wu nodded.

“It means being able to build the future without erasing the past.”

The two of them quietly looked at the board.

For the first time, Ankara’s two-thousand-year memory seemed to whisper a single truth to them.

The River of Time was an invisible bridge connecting the past and the future.

Julian Column

Su and Wu’s lives now revolved around three places: home, the bookstore, and wherever the River of Time chose to take them.

One day, while they were once again in the bookstore on Karanfil Street, they decided to spend the day reviewing the notes that had now grown numerous enough to begin drawing conclusions.

The notes on the board now revealed, step by step, the changes Ankara had undergone over the centuries.

Su was just about to write another note when the familiar phenomenon appeared once again.

Billions of glowing particles began to swirl silently throughout the bookstore.

A moment later, the two of them found themselves in the middle of the streets of ancient Ankara.

At the end of the narrow stone roads, a towering column immediately caught their attention.

People had gathered around it, talking about the important visitor who was soon to arrive in the city.

Wu looked quietly at the column.

“It looks as though it has just been built.”

Su nodded.

“Raised to commemorate Emperor Julian’s visit to Ankara.”

The two of them stood watching the column for a long time.

Time began to flow once more.

The years passed rapidly.

The buildings around it changed.

The streets grew wider.

The city expanded.

But the column remained where it stood.

After a while, the scene changed again.

This time, workers were carefully laboring around the column.

Heavy ropes had been fastened to it, and its stone base was being dismantled with great care.

Wu looked at Su in surprise.

“They’re not demolishing it…”

Su watched closely.

“No.”

“They’re moving it.”

A short while later, the column was erected in its new location.

Everything around it had changed.

But the column itself remained the same.

The glowing particles surrounded them once again.

When they found themselves back in the bookstore on Karanfil Street, Wu walked straight to the board.

He picked up his pen.

He wrote a new heading.

Julian Column

✓ Erected to commemorate Emperor Julian’s visit to Ankara.

✓ Relocated because of ground stability issues.

✓ Preserved in its original form and reinstalled at a new location.

✓ Still stands today.

In the notes section, he added a short sentence.

“The River of Time does not always bring change when there is no need for it. Sometimes, it simply flows.”

Su read the words carefully.

She thought for a while.

“Interesting…”

“What is?”

“There’s neither a rupture here…”

“…nor was it simply left untouched.”

Wu nodded.

“It was moved only so it could be preserved.”

The two of them quietly looked at the board.

Each new heading showed that the River of Time did not follow a single rule.

Sometimes time left the old exactly where it was.

Sometimes it allowed it to change.

And sometimes, to keep it from being lost, it carried it somewhere else.

Evening had fallen.

The only light inside the bookstore on Karanfil Street came from the lamp on the worktable.

Wu stepped in front of the board.

There was no empty space left on the wall.

Every journey, every photograph, and every note had found its place there.

Slowly, he began to read.

Grand Post Office…

Natural change.

Ministry of Education…

The breaking of the River of Time.

Kızılay Building…

The breaking of the River of Time.

Ankara Palas…

Natural continuity.

Taşhan…

Natural transformation.

Gençlik Park…

Transformed into a new public space as the city developed.

Güvenpark…

Preserved, yet the flow of the River of Time was dried up through forced intervention.

Temple of Augustus…

Standing for two thousand years.

A new era was built upon an older sacred site.

Julian Column…

Preserved.

Only moved to a new place where it could continue to exist.

Wu remained silent for a long time.

Then he slowly turned to Su.

“Did you notice?”

Su quietly raised her head.

“What?”

“All this time, we thought we were studying buildings.”

Su smiled.

“But what we were really studying was the ever-flowing River of Time.”

Wu looked over the notes on the board once again.

“I can see it now.”

“The River of Time doesn’t resist natural development.”

“It doesn’t stand in the way of a city’s growth, people’s needs, or the creation of new living spaces.”

Su nodded.

“But when its natural course is forced, it doesn’t just interrupt the flow of time.”

“In the future, it can also lead to physical disasters.”

The two of them silently looked at the board.

Their research was finally complete.

They had found answers to most of their questions.

Yet Wu looked once more at the very first photograph pinned in the upper corner of the board.

Then he whispered softly,

“There’s still one thing we don’t know.”

Su turned toward him.

“What?”

Wu’s answer was brief.

“Why did the River of Time show us all of this?”

A deep silence settled over the room once again.

They both knew.

The real mystery…

Had only just begun.

Wu stood silently before the board for a long time.

Every photograph hanging on the wall belonged to a different moment in time.

Some were from the past…

Some from the present…

And some from days that had not yet come…

Su pinned the last note onto the board.

Then she took a deep breath.

“I think we’ve finally seen everything.”

Wu nodded.

“Yes.”

“We’ve seen the past.”

“We’ve seen the present.”

“We’ve seen the future.”

The two of them quietly looked at the board.

Grand Post Office…

Ministry of Education…

Kızılay Building…

Taşhan…

Gençlik Park…

Güvenpark…

Temple of Augustus…

Julian Column…

After a while, Su spoke.

“At first, I thought these were all separate journeys.”

Wu smiled.

“So did I.”

“But now I know they weren’t.”

Su looked at him curiously.

“What do you mean?”

Wu pointed to the photographs on the board one by one.

“Each journey completed the one before it.”

“None of them meant anything on its own.”

“It was only when we put them all together that we realized they were revealing the same truth.”

Su slowly nodded.

“Natural change… human intervention… and the consequences that appeared years later…”

Wu finished her sentence.

“They were all links in the same chain.”

A brief silence filled the room.

Then Wu spoke, as though he were giving voice to a thought he had carried within himself for a very long time.

“I finally understand why we’ve been traveling through time.”

Su looked at him attentively.

“Why?”

Without taking his eyes off the board, Wu answered,

“The River of Time didn’t take us to the past, the present, and the future without a reason.”

He paused for a moment.

“Every one of those journeys was meant to help us understand its natural flow.”

Su’s eyes drifted back to the board.

For the first time, every moment they had witnessed across time had become part of a single whole.

Their investigation was complete.

They finally understood what the River of Time had been trying to show them through every journey.

And yet, one question still lingered in Su’s mind.

“What will it show us next?”

In the silence of the room, they both felt the same truth.

The real journey was far from over.

Once they had completed their research, silence settled over the bookstore again.

Every note had been pinned to the board.

There were no new photographs left to add.

Su sat down at the chair beside her worktable.

“So this was the reason for all those journeys.”

Wu nodded.

“Yes.”

“The River of Time didn’t take us to the past, the present, and the future without a reason.”

“Every one of those journeys was meant to help us understand its natural flow.”

Su took a deep breath.

“And in the end, we understood it.”

A faint smile appeared on Wu’s face.

“At least part of it.”

Su looked at him in surprise.

“Part of it?”

Wu turned toward the board.

“We’ve only learned how the River of Time behaves.”

“Why it allows natural change…”

“Why, in some places, its flow is forced…”

“And how that leads to physical consequences years later…”

He paused for a moment.

“But we still haven’t answered the most important question.”

Su stood up.

“And what’s that?”

Wu looked out the window.

“Why Karanfil Street?”

Su didn’t understand the question.

“What do you mean?”

Wu slowly turned toward her.

“Why does the River of Time always bring us back to your bookstore instead of somewhere else in Ankara?”

For the first time, Su thought about that detail.

It was true.

At the end of every journey, they always returned to the same place.

As though an invisible bond…

Kept drawing them back here.

Su looked at her desk.

The computer, the pen, the notebooks, the unfinished notes.

Every time they returned, everything was exactly where she had left it.

The silence lingered.

Then Su spoke softly.

“Maybe the answer has been here all along.”

Wu said nothing.

Because he had been thinking the very same thing.

But neither of them yet knew what it meant.

Wu looked at the last photograph on the board for a long time.

Grand Post Office…

Temple of Augustus…

Gençlik Park…

Kızılay…

They were all parts of a single story now.

Su was the one who finally broke the silence.

“So the River of Time never led us on these journeys without a reason.”

Wu nodded.

“It wasn’t showing us time.”

“It was showing us the natural flow of time.”

“That we cannot change the past…”

“But we can understand it.”

Neither of them spoke for a long time.

After months of research, for the first time, every piece had fallen into place.

At that very moment, as Su instinctively focused once again, the Curtain of Time began to appear.

But this time, the deep silence that had always surrounded it was gone.

Su watched in astonishment as Wu slowly dissolved into millions of glowing particles.

When the Curtain of Time disappeared, Wu was gone.

The music drifting up from Karanfil Street blended with the voices of people outside.

Su remained where she was for a long time.

Without thinking, she reached her hand forward.

After standing there for a while, trying to understand what had happened, she walked over and sat down at her computer desk.

The computer was still on.

The novel file was still open on the screen.

Curiously, she scrolled down to the final page.

For a moment, her breath caught.

The novel was finished.

Yet she had never had the chance to write the final chapter.

With trembling fingers, she began to read the last lines.

“…Wu was gone.”

Su froze.

She moved the mouse.

She scrolled the page up and down.

She checked the file’s save time.

Everything looked perfectly normal.

And yet, the scene she had experienced only moments before was there before her, line by line.

She set the pen down on the desk.

She removed her glasses and placed them beside it.

Slowly, Su leaned back in her chair.

She listened to the sounds rising from Karanfil Street.

Then she closed her eyes.

THE END