The Kabataş tram sighs through an intersection and a boy stops short to let it pass. He waits with some annoyance, until he discovers something in the last car. A man in a button-up shirt, briefcase in his lap, slumps against the window, snoozing. The boy’s eyes flash. As the car rolls by, he pounces. He slaps the glass of the window, spinning quickly to see the reaction of the man he’s awakened, the man jolting upright and trying to place himself.
In the next seat, a reverently-old man laughs, pats his groggy neighbor’s shoulder, permitting the other passengers to trade glances with quiet delight. A pair of twin girls giggle into their mother’s long skirt. Then the tram picks up speed and the riders return to their reveries, still wearing fractions of smiles.