Beginning Again

Beginning again.

The shoes and the bag make me think of a journey. Maybe going on holidays. I went to turkey a few years ago. My Dads from Istanbul so I went to the city to explore my roots. I just went with a suitcase. For the first weeks, I stayed with a cousin. Istanbul was so big, vibrant, colourful, smelly, hot, loud. I felt like an outsider but I also felt at home. I recognised the faces, the foods, the smells. I am at home in many places really, I think.

A boy. He is looking around him. The glasses he wears make everything appear particularly clear. A tree. Houses. A cat in the corner. Everything seems familiar but also strange. He knows how trees, houses and cats look. Obviously. But these look strange, too big, to dark, to shiny, so fluffy. It is intriguing really. Interesting.

I see an older woman who once, in her youth, was the most beautiful girl of her town. She still has that air about her. She lifts the black scarf ad easily throws it over her shoulder. Her golden earrings glitter. Her black curls of hair show. She looks to the side. Smiles. Her eyes are lined with black pencil. Rose cheeks. Maybe she was a princess in another life.