Creative Non-Fiction Short Stories. :) Travel, Oldsters, Love, and Compassion.
This morning I took my notebook out for a date at the park. We had a delightful time. I ran a pen dry. While taking notes on what I’ve seen this week, I suddenly started writing a passage in Turkish. Sometimes it’s easier to write about your feelings when the results will be necessarily banal. My grasp of Turkish adjectives is still slim. This week I worked on nice goal words: “generous,” “witty,” and “brave.”
Nonetheless, when I check out the Turkish passage now, I look forward to two different moments ahead. 1.) The day I can read it and smile at my grammatical errors. 2.) The day I won’t be able to read it, but will remember that once I did what everyone claims they want to do–I tore off after a big adventure.
The Turkish language will most likely disappear from my part-of-the-brain-made-for-languages-but-already-sadly-full-of-80s-pop-songs. Yet, I hope I will…
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