All Work
Everything on the site, newest first.
Short Fiction
- The Notice A door, and the hour beside it The notice had gone up weeks ago, on the street door, at a height that had once been out of reach. The seal, the block number, the word demolition, a date. The date was this week.
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The Lines Between Us
The Woman on the Page
Emre came to Kaş because of Cem.They had been friends for ten years. Cem had spent the first of those years in an office in İstanbul and the rest of them regretting...
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Michi
Seventeen Umbrellas
Sora counted seventeen umbrellas at the foot of the first gate.It had rained in the morning, the quicksilver rain that came and went before the vendors had finished arranging their charms. Now...
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It Will Be
The Twenty-Three Kilos
Rain runs down the café window. The three men sit at the table by the window. A newspaper lies open between them. The street door opens. Two women come in under one...
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Thinking Is for After
The Cracked Plate
Shadows stretch across the walls. Her mother’s plates form stacks on the table. Newspapers rest beside them. Crates cover the floorboards.Mara spreads a newspaper flat. She lifts a plate from the stack...
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Written in Ink
The Unwritten Year
In Bologna her mother handed her the tablet across the kitchen table, in a white box with the lid still creased. The tomato sauce moved in folds on the stove and the...
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Let’s Have Some Cheese
Close Enough to Belong, Far Enough to Forget
I have never been good with weddings.Still, I went.I went because Esra, the bride, was a dear friend. We had not seen each other in years, and there are friendships that survive...
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The Cost
Two Kinds of Price
He belonged to İstanbul—or to an İstanbul that is mostly gone now.White hair, neatly combed back. Thin glasses. A jacket that had not been chosen to impress anyone, which made it more...
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Collateral
A Turn Too Early
The halıcı in Kreuzberg owns the building and won’t sell a single flat. Narrow and tall, French balconies on every floor. Every flat one-plus-one. Kahraman walks through all of them. The ground...
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Handled
Fractions of a Millimeter
A silver laptop and a manila folder rested on the mahogany desk. He opened the laptop. He read.The desk phone rang. He kept reading.The second ring sounded. His fingers hit the keys.The...
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The Cove
A Command I No Longer Knew How to Give
The cove, when I reached it, was exactly as beautiful as he’d said it would be. The cliff faced west. The water was clear. The sun was an hour from setting.I sat...
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The Anxiety
The Road to Nowhere
The car asked if we wanted music.Neither of us answered right away. Şafak was looking out the window, doing that thing he does where he rests his temple against the glass and...
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The Joy
The Summer of Superman and Straight A’s
The kitchen. Under the hazy yellow light of the hood, I noticed the watch on his wrist.“You’re the only one I know who still wears an analog watch.”Şafak looked down at it,...
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The Poise
They Must Know What They’re Doing
I drove Şafak to the interview that day. He barely spoke on the way there—but told me what happened next a few days later. He was thorough.The receptionist had reading glasses pushed...
Essays
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None of Us Are
The Hunger to Remain Apart
We were standing outside Teacher’s Bar on a Saturday night.We had been sitting inside for hours—talking, drinking, breathing the same air for so long that stepping outside felt like waking up. Kadife...
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On Lying
Not Being Caught Carries Its Own Sentence.
A lie is an environment.The liar constructs a context in which the false conclusion becomes the only one available to the listener.The most effective deceptions are built from true information, arranged carefully....
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On Perceiving
Misperception Is a Corridor Whose Architect Burned the Blueprint.
“I’m a realist. I see things exactly as they are.”I’ve never trusted anyone who says this. Lying was the subject of On Lying. This is a different phenomenon entirely. They actually believe...
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On Looking
A Room Full of Directors and No Audience.
The liar builds a corridor and remembers the blueprint. The misperceiver builds one and moves in. But there is another architecture—one where everyone builds at the same time, and nobody notices the...
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On Forgiveness
Cruelty Made Architectural.
Four men in a room. Ardbeg in our glasses, heavy and gold. The screen pulling us into Dogville’s chalk-lined dark—a stage set pretending to be a town, cruelty made architectural.My stomach knots...
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On Keeping
The Corridor Narrows in Adversity.
Some debts stay. Some structures fall. But there is an older question than whether the damage can be undone—it is whether anything can be held whole in the first place.Adversity strips you...
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On Longing
Lighter. Smaller. Younger.
The hands that press the collar, the comb drawn through the hair — they hold a form against erosion. But there is something the ritual can’t reach. Something that doesn’t stay where...
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On Silence
I Forgot I Had a Cat.
This piece also appears in The Fragments as Chapter 8, Moris.I forgot I had a cat.It was his first night in the apartment. He was six months old, a tiny, terrified shadow...
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The Best Ideas Come When You Let Go
Default Mode Network and the Art of Not Thinking
I am walking along the İdealtepe coast. It’s five minutes until sunrise; the sky is torn between deep orange and pale blue, and the sea is almost silver. There isn’t a single...
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The Empathy Paradox
Outside Every Story but Our Own
We are sitting at a table by the window. Outside, the rain has just stopped; the pavement is gleaming. Two coffees, both gone cold. My friend is talking. I am listening.Her eyes...
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It Is Either from Love or Fear
Fear Wears Love’s Face—and Speaks Its Language
There is a city with white walls. It has always been under siege—or at least, that is the story it tells itself. And stories, told long enough, become the walls themselves.They wanted...
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Why Do Unfinished Things Haunt Us?
The Zeigarnik–Lacan Trap We All Fall Into
I’m at the register. Someone ahead of me is counting coins. The scanner beeps. I’m holding a shopping basket, wearing the face of an ordinary evening. From the outside, everything looks still....
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Jung’s Golden Shadow
Why Do We Envy the Things We Forbid Ourselves the Most
Have you ever noticed that your own potential shines behind the very things that annoy, anger, or make you envious?The answer to this question lies at the core of the “shadow” concept,...
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Our Defense Mechanisms
Have We Handed Over the Keys to Our Own Prisons
I’ve been digging into this topic for a while now. Especially when it comes to things that directly affect my life, I want to know what the experts say, how much of...
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Will AI Be Enough for Us?
A Reflection on AI’s Promise and the Warmth It Can’t Replicate
AI agents haven’t fully entered our lives yet—I know that. Most of us still wake up and go about our day without talking to an assistant, relying purely on our own will....
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Why Do We Say Hello?
Transactional Analysis and the Hidden Games in Our Relationships
Have you ever found yourself in an argument you never intended to have, asking, “How did we even get here?” Or, despite being an adult, have you ever felt yourself suddenly shrinking...