At Least We Tried

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: Sep 9, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201000592

Book preview

Atemi Kayaky

ISBN: XXXXXXXXX

Atemi Publishing 20 18

*****one*****

The Last Blue - Oggito

8

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The only secret life of the forest that I can see and know exists outside while we are walking on this mountain road that we have been climbing for half an hour. I catch a faint stir outside, but no, it's actually our moving car. Strands of hair falling from my shoulder make crackling sounds as they touch the plastic bag on my lap. I dreamed that he would tell me what was going on in the lost time between us along the way, and that he would never shut up, he hadn't even opened his mouth yet. I can see the lights of the beach houses on the shore of the bay as the vehicle is tossed left and right. Civilization is below, far away. The last blue before dark hangs in the air.

How many shades of darkness, evening, night? While the sky turns a dark navy blue, the color of the forest is black, jet black. Only the royal tomb, illuminated by a yellow light, stands on the hill in all its grandeur. Ghosts everywhere.

I'm too tired to speak. I look at her beautiful, raven-black hair that she has gathered around her neck, the tufts that cannot be clipped on the hairpin, the bangs that have fallen on her forehead, she has been trying to create herself quietly for months. The sound from the engine finally changed, we gradually slowed down.

We're here, he said. 

We need to get the bags from the car. As I felt his free hand in his pocket, I heard the jingle of keys. Not another sound, not the whisper of the locusts I'm used to on summer nights. As we approach the garden gate of his house, that sound only coming from the contact of our shoes with the gravel and grass on the ground, that's all.

It got ahead of me. He slid into the room, ignoring the darkness. It looks like a cave inside. He burned the sconces on the wall. There is no light bulb hanging from the ceiling. A very authentic look. There is only one seat, opposite her cousin. The chimney of the cooker divides the whole room into several parts, creating high, window-like openings towards the ceiling.

I sat on the chair. I waited for him to sit next to me without doing anything. He was still searching for something in the kitchen.

I'm not hungry, I said. Don't try to prepare anything.

Beer?

It's possible.

The rubber on the refrigerator door peeled off from a fleshy body, as if separating two lips in a mouth.

You closed your account, I said. He looked at me as if I had said something irrelevant from a different time.

What bill, he said.

I say social media, whatever it is.

I hung up before I left, didn't you know?

But they can reach it if they want. They can still reach it, I said, you know.

He placed the bottle on his head. Closing his eyes and shaking his head, he continues to gulp down the cold beer.

Do you drink a lot?

This is on the mountain, he said, laughing. He lifted the bottle to his eyes. No. I shopped for you to come.

We are silent. His eyes are disturbed, scanning his surroundings aimlessly at regular intervals. It is as if he is afraid of someone who will sneak among us and enter the room without our knowledge.

They will meet in Georgia, he said. Kerem will fly from London, my parents will pass through Hopa. It won't be me this year.

Kerem still can't enter then, is he?

As soon as he entered through the border... Bad, he said. But my moms came out better than I thought.

Because of your father.

Like that. My mother handled everything well. I only understand that now.

I took a deep breath. As I nod my head at every word that comes out of his mouth, I look for the most useful way to show that I understand him.

My mother knew how to wait, he said. Now she is waiting for her son. Then maybe I'll be next.

I don't think so exactly, I said. I think you're a little too careful.

What do you mean careful?

So you left without any tangible threats, actually nobody fired you.

He shrugged.

It means we have a different understanding of threat with you.

His perception will of course be different from mine. What surprises me, even though I know that you always see yourself as separate from everyone else? My beer has been in my hand for minutes, undrinked. I took a sip. It turned into warm, tasteless water.

I know they don't go after every dissident account, he said. But mine is more than social media.

You know that Sedat is still in the flat, I said. Even though everyone knows what it is, he seems perfectly comfortable.

Did his father also serve years, and was his brother sued and sentenced?

I said OK. I will not compete with you. Tell me how you spend your time here."

I don't pass. Because it doesn't.

It means that we came to the wrong, bullet-like answers so quickly.

You create an atmosphere for yourself, I said. And it spreads around. Maybe Murat too...

Murat turned out to be the most cowardly man I have ever seen in my life. Please don't tell me about Murat.

That vein stretching taut down her neck, disappearing in the curve of her breasts. The smoothness of her wheat skin, visible through the tank top she wears in different colors. The look on his tense face sharpens.

Murat lost himself, yes, you should call me exactly that.

I nodded. He sat next to me and slapped his palm on my knee.

Fuck Murat, he said, staring into my eyes, tell me, how are you?

Cursing gives it a masculine flair. I try to pick out, catch, and understand the thoughts that go through his mind when he sits next to me, shaping his thick eyebrows from shape to shape, before he can decide where to put his hands and arms. He's strong though. Stronger than you think.

I've been wondering about you, I said. People are just starting to ask about you.

It's true, he said, they wait like sheep, afraid it's their turn.

We all are. Maybe you are taking precautions yourself. But it doesn't make much sense, that's what I'm trying to say. If you ask ten people, ten people will suspect Sedat, but the man is comfortable.

For now.

For now, yes, but if I told you that Banu and Ahmet were fired.

I know, I know.

How do you know?

I just know, he said, I'm aware of everything.

Did you hear, I said, no more, what was that?

We stared at each other.

It came from outside the house. Do not be afraid. It is the overturned scarecrow.

He unlocked the door. He took the lantern out of the drawer and slung the handmade jacket from the hanger over his shoulder.

Do you want me to come? I asked.

No, you stay here, he said, ordering me to continue sitting where I was with his free hand. He's playing the daredevil again. Fearless. A strange beautiful person who says I'll leave before they kick me out and tag himself. I stood up and approached the doorway. The sky is extremely impressive. The stars are more prominent, the intensity in the parts where the lantern does not shine, that sense of depth is strong enough to render many things meaningless than we think.

There is no one, he said.

He turned the key three times. This time he pulled the bolt on the top. He leaned against the window sills and made sure the arms were fully closed.

You said there was nothing to be afraid of.

I know, he said, but I felt responsible when it was you.

Doesn't it kill you that you feel responsible to me, to everything, to everyone?

I'm done already, look, look at me at my age.

She is one of those women who will never show her age. I stopped. I shouldn't clash with him from the first night. 

How many people know you're coming here?

Vildan and Erdal know, I said. 

You're being careless, he said. It's dangerous for you to see me, too.

I involuntarily laughed. It seems ridiculous now that he's making his own existence big and threatening.

This obviously sounds funny to you, you know, he said, and since you're seeing me, they might watch you too.

Sorry, I said, "I don't know how to tell you