The Girl from Istanbul
Sep 4, 2018 · 4 min read
“The bomb exploded right in front of my house,” she said.
“I walked through my street and there were pieces of dead bodies everywhere.”
Yet here she was, alive, healthy, and beautiful. We were sitting around a smorgasbord groaning with every delicacy. We were safe, we were happy, and we were celebrating the birthday of my lover and her friend. Yet real life raged on outside our bubble of sanctity, violently indifferent to the fates of humans.
This is what it is to be Turkish, I thought. It is to know hardship, cruelty, violence, horror…

