Creative Non-Fiction Short Stories. :) Travel, Oldsters, Love, and Compassion.
He’s sweeping while others are sleeping. I know the Turkish word “to sweep”–süpürüyor–so I am conjugating his every move, his plan for tomorrow, and yesterday’s business. I must admit it was the language exercise that brought him to my attention.
He is meticulous, a word I don’t yet know in Turkish. I admire his little tasks as he sets up near the stop for the airport shuttle. He sets out water and packets of tissue. He tidies up the area, adjusting his makeshift countertop until it is perfectly even–or as even as possible for a metal box perched on an uneven sidewalk. He waves at the bus drivers, the taxi drivers, the men who sell the tickets and load the luggage. He greets the morning with his organization, and he quiets the chaos around him.
Kolay gelsin, Süpürgeci. May it come easy.