“Yes. I do that sometimes, I’m sorry.”
“No. Don’t apologize. I like talking to my passengers when they ride in my taxi. The stories I have heard are enough for me to write a book. The most special ones are the passengers that I pick up from the airport. They talk about problems, sadness, joy, relief, and anything that they want to talk about after visiting the airport. But this was my first time to talk to a sleeping passenger.”
A taxi driver writing about his passengers. The idea struck me as cool, but I absolutely didn’t want him to be writing about me or the things I said when I was asleep.
He looked at me through the rear-view mirror and asked, “How do you think is she feeling right now?”
Continue reading Sleep Talker and Secret Genius (Part 2)
I didn’t see the plane leaving. And it sucks. I could have felt the farewell more if I saw that airbus leave and a carry off the half of my soul to a far place. It was a sunny Thursday afternoon, and after my last look at her, as soon as I turned my back to the entrance door of the airport, I discovered that what’s ahead is a long walk on a desert-like walkway towards the exit gate. “From pain to pain,” I thought as I slowly crawled out of that seemingly black hole of a place that just took my loved one away. As I walked, I tried not to think about what just happened. I tried to think about things that I would put if I own an airport. A garden-like walkway with hidden airconditioners on every corner of it would be fine. An ice walkway, much more like a gigantic igloo, also crossed my mind. The heat of the sun can sometimes enhance my imagination in a certain way.
Continue reading Sleep Talker and Secret Genius (Part 1)