Hush it is trying

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Chapter 3

In my family we believe we are actors and writers and it is let us say to keep ourselves from harm that we wear this disguise. In the Turkish Republic this sorry thing had happened and there was a scandal which was so broad that everyone’s private business was out in the open. This was in the 1970′s and now there is this other scandal if not as grave to the consequences of society just as strange and startling. The greatest journalist in Turkey was writing how every female was really dressed in some disguise having this fling and that.

“Sorry why not go as themselves?”

“The thing is nothing doing in Turkey there are rules of behaviour codes and regimentations one can lose one job go insane and there is the sexual behaviour nobody does that sort of behaviour.”

If there is a disguise and the family are aware when they drop someone off, they do not want back then they say adieu and start anew. Someone much more to our taste. Now the feeling is one of this that we are good and sober. When males are still waiting outside to catch the unaware and the unwary and what does it all mean to the solitary female but that she should be careful. When the cousins asked me and said come to Cyprus and the house is yours. That we will make love to you and make believe the world is yours forever more.

“The house is there and we will bring food and do not worry we won’t let you starve.”

I plot revenge how could they to their own?

The thing was they did not like me care for me.

Why does a body weep and what has it done for me there is nothing the meaning I do not understand I want to know everything? There is nothing the matter with that. But there is nothing the meaningless thoughts making the ill advised the deceased respects the whole of life is shrouded in some mystery. The mistakes which we did think well once of each other. I am an unremarkable woman who everyone said and does say.

“The connection to reality is 33 thinkers were burnt to death and now we have to see what the ashes have left.”

“It was only an accident.”

“Journalism died after that no one had the courage to speak.”

The room is glazed over there is a silence and then I speak again some have left because they do not see it not in the right room or something mistake or something. Others have come in more than the agreed numbers but I say nothing but pleasantly sit down and I will speak.

I know I am a mere mortal with this sour head like it had got bigger than a pumpkin.

“I feel that time is pressing and the story has not begun yet?” said authority. I did not smile I was getting nervous I thought I had handled it well but no.

I am unthinkable like some sorry fool going into everything and everyone’s business. I am like a typhon. Look there is a romance in the air there are the clean colours and the past does not give up leave the ghost and then the romance in the air like an old detective novel with guys outside sitting waiting to see me fall.

I had in the past phoned the police when they did such a thing but now no longer, I am resigned by the very facts I do not own the street.

When they repeat this viciously, I know that it is like that they are not ashamed they are saying the words that is on everyone’s lips how dare I have presumptions and think myself better than mother who had nothing but her vagina to leave behind.

“We hold you accountable.” they all said, “for father going mad. For you over spending forever spending our money means tested and adding the accounts the discounts we do think you owe us money.” The look they give me is severe.

“Life is what I made this did I make this?”

“This is the height of insanity.” I hollower.

In the highs and lows of life what do I do and where do I go and from here where did the maze end and the beginning of sense happen? At my time of life sensible self should happen and there is nothing but this giddy laughter as if the belly button has been pushed. What does it matter when the high is higher and the low is lowest?

“Drink some coffee.” Said the English aristocrat.

“Have some water.” asked the fat man who was slimming down in a club.

“Do yoga.” said the psychologist, “Makes for relaxation.”

“Meditating and silence must be the thing.” Added and agreed someone called the nurse.

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