Fiction

Poem Fairy

“Mom!

“Hey, welcome back. How was your school?

“It was inspiring.

He said in a sing-song way. I could see his eyes beaming with joy as if he had discovered some gem.

“Hmm inspiring. Whom did you meet? Elon Musk?

With his hands now resting on his hips and his eyebrows furrowed, he started staring at me while squinting his eyes. Holding that expression, he said, “I want to become a poet. Do you know how to become one?”

I adjusted my glasses to avoid looking at him from over it. “Well, you have to write a poem. But what about being a programmer?” 

“I was a kid then. 

“Sure, you were a kid a few weeks back.” I muttered.

“Now, I know I want to become a poet. And if you have a poet inside you, a Poem Fairy visits you in your dream. 

“I see, she never visited me. 

He came closer and patted my right knee. “It’s okay, Mom. It happens. Not everyone is lucky.”

“Thanks love. I am wondering what that fairy does? Does she write a new poem or tweaks an older one?

“I don’t know much, but she gives you words. Will she visit me, Mom?

What should I have replied? She never visited me. “If you write a poem, maybe she will.” 

“Actually, I wrote one poem. Do you want to read it?

“Wow. Why don’t you recite?

“Ahem.

He is a performer. Look at the way he clears his throat. I will get him one beret also.

“Here it goes …
Twinkle twinkle the tough wrinkle
Grandma smiles then her nose crinkles
When my released gas sprinkles 
the air, it then tickles the tiny hair 
peeping out of her nose, the nose 
that she closes then with her fingers.

Fiction

My Cute Devil

Oh, dear! No. Mr. Bean is not your Daddy.

Don’t touch them. Come, hold my finger, baby. 

See, this pumpkin is even tinier than you. 

Yes, Mama likes that pumpkin. Isn’t it cute?

Erhan! No. No, don’t pluck it at all. God, why? That is not your football.

It’s okay, get up. You must have hurt that pumpkin. Are you okay? And your knees?

What? What you don’t know?

O honey, I also don’t know why are you crying? Look at your dress. I am not buying you new shoes.

Baby, when will you learn to put on pants? What is wrong with your hands?

Where are your pants? And what were you doing in the bathroom? 

Love, that’s my broom not your magical broomstick.

Erhan! No one washes mobile, never. 

No, you don’t even rinse it. 

No, it is neither thirsty nor hungry. But where are your pants?

Of course, you don’t know. Someone must have stolen it, no? Or was it magical pants that flew out of the chimney on their own? 

Wait, what was that burning in the hearth? Your pants?

Erhan? Did you do that? And don’t you lie to me.

Oh, I see. Yes, Mama also likes to wear hot pants. They are warm. But forget this one. It will burn you. 

Burn means hmm, that is a very clever question. Let me think. Do you know about fire?

And do you remember the needle? 

Injection?

Haha. No, we are not going to a doctor. Don’t worry. So, when the fire is given by an injection, it is called a burn.

Yes, dear. No one wants to get burnt.

Who told you that? 

Oh, really? I had no idea. I think maybe because dead people are stronger than us. They are brave, so they don’t feel any pain when burnt.

Yes, your Dad is the bravest of all. Honey, do you want to listen to a story?

Fiction

Unfair Integers

After plucking a few hairs of mine, I looked helplessly at my ten-year-old son.

“Erhan! Dear, you should rethink what five minus seven is.”

Still struggling with plus and minus signs, he pressed the pencil tip hard on his notebook to snap it. Looking at the broken ring, he finally declared, “It is a stupid question. No exam will ever ask it. It should not be even part of the syllabus.”

My husband taught our son to subtract five from seven and add five to seven using kidney beans. They both would pretend to be businessmen, lending and borrowing their beans. In the sky, tonight, he must be giggling – watching us struggle to achieve a minus sign. I wish he could have stayed back to teach him how to subtract seven from five as well.

“Mom! How can I ask for more when he has nothing to give?”

Nanopoblano 2020 – 5/10

Fiction

Last Night

I was walking with him in the moonlight. It was cold and white. Snow heavily sprayed on roads, rooftops, and leaves. He was thickly wrapped in black. The chilly winds reflected from his dark cape. On the other hand, I was shivering. I didn’t have those woolen onion layers on. He also didn’t offer his coat. I was rubbing my hands together to get a little warmth when I heard a dog growling on the opposite side of the road. Little scared, I wanted to hold his hand but by then he was two steps ahead of me. I increased my pace to cover the distance. We continued our walk again in silence. When we finally reached where I requested him to take me for the last time, he turned to look at me and gave a smile. But by that time, everything was frozen and I was cold and stoned. I said bye to my body in the mortuary cabinet and grasped his stretched hand.

Nanopoblano 2020 – 3/10

Fiction

Nebula

“Death asks Life to continue”

At this age when my face is covered with folds and creases and a few senile warts. When my scalp is smooth except for a few gray patches on its periphery. When my feet feel large but can balance my trembling body. When my skin hangs loosely on my bones. When my memories except her are bidding me a farewell. When my joints have grown to become more tender. Every night I climb all the stairs to sit on our swing on the rooftop. My Allie got us this beautiful gift on our first wedding anniversary. The swing creaks and my knees bellow in agony but my heart’s whisperings subdues them.

Sitting on the swing, alone, I take off the rented glowing outer layers that mask my emptiness. They help me to disguise as a funny cute old guy. However, some people can still see my pain through their telescopic eyes, and they give me a squeeze on my shoulder. I give them a smile and save my tears for the night to share with Allie.

With night getting cold, I see my sigh in the air creating turbulence. And the air continues to witness my evaporating soul since she turned into ashes. Piercing the eyes of air, I stare at the sky and absorb all its infinities. I search for the interstellar space where the air can finally carry this giant cloud of dust and this nebula can born again.

The neighbouring households have turned off their lights and the air is turning even darker. In this murky night, a thousand stars caged in my heart battles to twinkle. I am a star nursery, in my mind thriving her memories, in my breath flowing her memories. If Allie were sitting next to me on our swing, her head resting on my arm, one hand locked in mine, and the other on my chest playing with my beats, and her eyes wandering on my face, she would have said, “You look like my ghost, Nova”.

Nova… My ears plead the air to bring back those waves that belonged to her, those waves that were born when she called me Nova.

My glistening eyes chuckle recalling our first date. In the night outside her house we had our first kiss. Standing still, gazing each other. Our fingers feeling safe in other’s hands. My cheeks were red, my eyes brighter than the sun, my feet dancing on clouds, and my lips, they couldn’t help but smile. Nothing could have been more beautiful when she finally broke the silence, “You are my Nova”. (She never called me Noah again.) I was enthralled, I wanted to say something equally romantic but I was never a creative. In the excitement I replied, “You are my Supernova”. The air got filled with our laughter. No one ever looked at me the way she did then. Her eyes promised me that we are going to stay together unless the world ends. She kept all her promises except this – the one I wanted her to keep.

Nova dissolved in your ashes left behind
Effervescing sorrow stiffens the knots of dust
Burning in the core, a star ready to be born
Unwavering love mourns the distance and time
Luminous tears shining brightly in my eyes
Allie, our breathes will fuse again in the sky

Noah
Allie’s Nova



PS- In the distance, someone is playing a song. The words suspended in the air are begging on my behalf,
Will you whisper in my ear Those three words I wanna hear
Tell me that you love me The way you used to love me

.

💓




If you want to know more about nebula that is an interstellar cloud please check spaceplace.nasa.gov