The Dead and the Wounded

By Atemi Kayaky

We are faced with an industrialization phenomenon that makes itself felt in literature as well as in every other subject. The reshaping of literature according to the conditions of market capitalism turns literary products into simple consumables. Newly released literary novels, stories, poems, essays, etc. literary products no longer have an artistic quality, they are consumed quickly and resemble Hollywood movies…

 

Identical, fabricated books adorn the shelves of the bookstore. We are faced with books that appeal to the eye, not to the pleasure of reading. Every day, we are showered with novels whose content resembles a movie script, and the most popular ones are immediately adapted to the cinema. Their styles, plots and even the subjects themselves are extremely superficial, identical books are everywhere.

 

There are quite a few pages in such works, but it is possible to read and finish them in a short time. We would like to say that the reason for this is that it is written in a successful language. However, if we consider that the majority of the people who read these books find it boring and they find it boring, this is not the main reason. The main reason is that in such industrial novels, whether it is character analysis, description of environment and events, a very superficial work is done. Writers don't think about these things. Because – a group of authors should be excluded from this – what is important for authors now is the sales figures and the amounts they will earn, rather than the literary and aesthetic characteristics of their works.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Atemi Kayaky
• Release date: Aug 14, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201135010

Book preview

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The Dead and the Wounded - Ahmet Akif Özcan - Kirpi Literature and Think Magazine

Typhoon downshifted to 3. The rain was still showing and this very easy chase game was getting harder and harder. The cigarette in his mouth was half finished, and the ash on the end of the cigarette spilled between his legs. It took 3 seconds for him to quickly open the window a little, toss his cigarette out of his mouth, and to close the window. The new homicide cops in the car were groaning, Chief is slow, sir, what speed is that, sir, your leg is on fire? 

Fortunately, the killer could not stand this game any longer and pulled the car to the right. But since ours car was an old model, it was going at jet speed, so they passed the killer with an air. The Superintendent turned with a maneuver that should not be done on rainy and slippery roads. The people in the car were already in a trance after saying let's pray their last minutes, at least the prayers we know. But the captain overcame that.

They got out of the car and started walking. It was as if they were walking down the corridor of a government office. They got the wimp man out of the car. Buğra and Kemal handcuffed the murderer.

Tayfun put the car across the prison door. Then he stopped the car. He straightened his hair, looking in the rearview mirror. He boasted about the whiteness of his teeth. After a few brow movements, she was ready. Get out of the car. He closed the door, saw through the car window that the flower was in the next seat, and opened the door again. He took the flower, it was ready now. He cleared his throat once. He had nothing. It was way too exciting. Years later, B. was getting out of prison.

Outside the prison was in a terrible state. Its walls seemed to be crumbling. Fortunately, the doors opened. Gradually, people began to go out, running to their loved ones and families waiting outside. Tayfun was going to cry like emotional caravans for the past 1 hour. He caught himself. She was afraid that he would see her like this.

He was on his way home towards the end of the 2nd hour. He gave the flower to the florist who was there. He gave the newly bought books to the children selling handkerchiefs at the lights. Not so that they can read, but so that they sell books because they are expensive. B. had not. The attendant there said he left an hour ago, and still waited. He waited not because he was stupid, but because he loved. Because sometimes waiting is all that needs to be done.

What any normal person does on a cold winter day, Tayfun was doing it that evening. He was watching TV while sipping his tea. He suddenly imagined B next to him. He clenched the glass in his hand so tightly that it finally cracked. He washed his bloody hands with good manners. 

Besiktas will not be champions this year, that's its sign.

He was looking at the TV while holding his left hand in one hand. Then the squeaks started coming from the radio.

"33-10 centers... Well... What was it... Chief, there's a body here. I wonder if you don't have a job, should you come? (A voice from behind: What the hell is he going to do?) 

First, he heard the words centre, body, lan. Then he realized that the voice belonged to Kemal.

No Kemal, I can't come. Tonight, honey, I don't want to solve a murder. Allah, Allah, night night ... say the address sissies.

Galata tower of six with a loud roar- human swarming. Finally, Tayfun got away from the people and came to the victim. The body belonged to a man. Prosecutor Abidin was yawning as he had just woken up from his sleep. He looks at the victim and the paper in his hand. He comes face to face with Tayfun from time to time, but the prosecutor doesn't show his face. Bugra got up from the corpse and began to explain.

My supervisor is a man in his 30s. No identity or anything. We couldn't understand what happened. Not shot with a gun. No signs of assault. But according to the report, we can understand what happened.

Typhoon lit a cigarette. He used to light a cigarette when he couldn't understand something - even when he didn't want to understand it. Amir bent over the corpse. He took a long look at her face, hands, and hair.

The team was at the office the other day, waiting for Kemal to bring the reports. Meanwhile, everyone was doing their job in that short space. They could pay their water bills or electricity bills. While Buğra was talking to his friend on MSN, the superintendent was resting his eyes . When the report came, everyone was right. After Sergen, who had little sugar, distributed the teas at the speed of light and left, Kemal entered the conversation.

My supervisor, I spoke to the forensics. According to the report I have in my hand, the man is not dead... Heheheheh ...

Seeing the chief's calm gaze, he immediately straightened himself.

 Aga , there is not a single mark on the man or anywhere. The man was married and drugged and killed his wife 2 years ago. The victim was also killed with a drug. But this drug was not a drug produced in Turkey. Oddly enough, this medicine was made for elephants. Whoever the murderer is... So we have a hard time... Wait a minute...

Kemal excitedly took a small piece of paper from his pocket.

They also found this little piece of paper tucked into the man's belly button. I've looked around a bit, but there's nothing but a number or two.

The chief took the paper. He examined it. He turned the paper over, but did not understand anything. He jammed the paper into the wrapper of the cigarette pack. Then he set an hour with us for his dinner and left the office.

She went her home. He took a nice shower. While looking at himself in the mirror, B. suddenly appeared behind him. When he turned around, he was gone.

They were having lunch in a small restaurant. An elephant's milk was missing from the table. As soon as they finished their meal and went out, a person fell on the car standing in front of them. It fell so hard that the size of the car was halved. The people around started shouting in fear. Tayfun immediately ran towards the building. Kemal called the ambulance. Buğra tried to turn the man lying on his back. Meanwhile, Tayfun was climbing the stairs three or five steps at a time. They were breathing hard when they got to the top of the building. He turned his head. Then it crashed hard to the ground. Before he closed his eyes, he saw a woman's feet. The woman passed by him. He wanted to sit up and see who it was, but he had already passed out.

Police Chief KısaKes Necmi and the team were at the hospital, by the chief's bedside. Tayfun wanted to sit up as he slowly opened his eyes. He was muttering something. (What happened to me...) Short Cut Necmi started to laugh jokingly.

Look guys, Tayfun has nothing. He just got poisoned from something he ate and passed out. It's like a door, mashallah.

The typhoon was starting to come into its own. Standing on the side table, badge; He saw the gun and the pack of cigarettes. He was just reaching for the cigarette when Necmi took it in one move and put it in his pocket. If he wasn't embarrassed, he'd be happy to have a free cigarette.

Typhoon, the man who crashed into this car is dead. Whoever the killer is, he kills the killers. I don't remember his name, but this man also killed his wife years ago. They also found a paper in his ear. Take a look if you want.

He excitedly took the paper from her hand. He was wondering where the other paper was when he remembered it was in the cigarette pack. He asked for the package. Necmi's face fell. He looked at what was written on the two papers. He thought that the numbers on the paper belonged to a coordinate. He handed Buğra the papers and told him to research.

In the morning everything was normal. Birds were flying. Cars were rushing forward, hoping to get somewhere. The dogs were scavenging while the cats were running from something. It was always like this. The only thing that changed was the people. Typhoon was already dressed as he was thinking