Sevda Khatamian | Creative Writing
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Lazy Letter: My Parallel Universe

It’s hard to catch on from time to time. It’s happening all so fast, and to be honest, I’m way too distracted to keep track. Pretty sure I’m taking it all for granted, this stress has made me blind. Sometimes I forget life is basically all about these moments. Or perhaps I’m living too many of them at the same time.

I promised I’d write more, but sometimes I don’t really feel like holding a pen in hand, or putting down my thoughts on a piece of paper. What would I say anyway?! Write to you all about my complaints, what a busy life I have with nothing in the nothing land?!READ MORE

Lazy Letter: Hey, Hey

Woke up to the sound of simit seller man. He must’ve been in one of the alleys nearby. “Hey, hey” he was shouting out loud, although everyone knows “simit, simit” is what he’s saying. Or sometimes just a very long “hey” is what you might hear. It must be a part of their deal that they all disappear after ten in the morning. You don’t really hear them after.READ MORE

Lazy Letter: Another Nap

I couldn’t remember the dream I woke up from. Couldn’t really remember how I fell asleep. I needed another nap before the sun was up– soon the beach would be too sunny to sleep. My watch read six o’clock sharp. The sky was lit up, but not completely, I could still see a star. The brightest one. I took a good look at the sky all around me. I wondered where the sun would rise up from. For a second, I lost my sense of direction. It was only my first night, and the beach was going to be my bed for the next seven days. Good to know the neighborhood! I remembered that last night the moon vanished right in front of me slightly above the horizon. I remembered its glow on the restless sea; only a couple days away from the full moon. And so the sun would rise up from the mountain behind, now that I was calculating. Only a touch of yellow light was visible from behind the tree. The mountains were quiet, standing tall from three different directions, holding their arms around one another and protecting this gorgeous valley. And a little bit blue from the night before, although they’re all covered in green. Nature is powerful, it almost speaks to you. The sun takes its time to rise up, and for some reason, early hours of the day last longer. I figured there will be more than enough time for a good nap.READ MORE

Lazy Letter: Home is not home anymore

Things are going well on my end. How are you?! The idea of traveling is starting to grow on me, feels like I can run it my whole life. There are many ups and downs to it, but can’t really complain when I have all the freedom I want. Dealing with visa is the most difficult one, the most annoying one and the most tiring one. But what can I say?! It’s probably just the way of it.READ MORE

Children of the Street

 Just before I pass the pizzeria by the clock store, a shiny black van pulled over the narrow alley. A very young beggar kid with dirty and old clothes slowed down. Waited. Seemed like a perfect chance to earn a few coins from the people inside the van. It was windy and hot. The door opened up just a notch, and the kid hopped on. The black van drove away.

Lazy Letter: Hospital Again

 I went to the hospital this afternoon. I had a hard time getting up. I actually woke up really early. Around seven or eight. We hung out in a friend’s apartment the night before. I remember at some point we started shooting tequila. It was only the morning light that reminded how far we’ve got, and what the hangover would be all about. The party ended around four in the morning. I’d promised myself to walk back home no matter how late, but in the end, I was so trashed that I couldn’t keep my eyes open. My legs were hurting, my bones were in pain. I was already so tired from the night before. I had traveled, and my bag was heavy. Crashing on the couch seemed to be the best idea.READ MORE

Mountain and Mist

All the paper work was done, the crazy rush was over, and I could now walk slowly. But I didn’t. It could’ve rained any second. It’s been misty and foggy all morning. Oh, how I miss the morning mist of these highlands! I looked to my right. Thrilled as one could be, almost got the goosebumps, as if I was seeing the view for the first time. Although I’d lived here for a long time. I used to live down this street, just a couple blocks away. My magical apartment and I, and the ATM machine up the street where I paid rent through it the whole time I was unemployed. I’d seen this view many times before, but my eyes had never sent the right signal to my brain. I’d simply turned my head around, looking for something more interesting than the view of a mountain in the distance. Perhaps I was taking that for granted, thinking that it’d be there tomorrow anyway. And the next day, and the day after. Every day would be different, I should’ve known better. The mountain beyond the city, covered in white mist and dark blue clouds barely holding the rain. Everything about the view was comforting and enjoyable. This street suits its name perfectly right.

Lazy Letter: The Post Office

 P.S. Seems like it’s turned into a routine now; I visit every post office in the neighborhood I reside. I sometimes find myself writing to more people than I actually have physical contacts with. Traveling long-term had another aspect that I would have never anticipated; loneliness, and there’s no getting away from it. Is it sad that I’m getting used to it?! My mother believes so. “You’ve been living alone for too long” she complained the other day. I’m mostly surrounded by friends and magnificent people, but guess she’s right, I really am alone. I try to contribute more as long as I’m staying with my family. I just got off the phone with her, asked her where the post office was. I couldn’t remember, although I’ve lived in this neighborhood all throughout my childhood and teenage life. Funny how I also wrote letters back then. And how I’m back to this fine habit again?! Who’s to tell? What was I influenced by? Or do I do this simply because it feels right?! Because I’m lonely? It’s rather old-fashioned, I must admit, it drags me back in time. Around the twenties perhaps. A bit terrifying when it comes to filling the address at the back of the envelope. What if I make a mistake?! I’m so good at making mistakes!READ MORE

The Small Child

I was waiting for my parents in the car. It was sunny, so I had to roll down the windows. My parents were grocery shopping. Later I found out that dad sells the eggs to that supermarket. Some of the eggs go to the small supermarket in the village, the rest is sold to this one in the town.

Just a few steps away from the supermarket, a little kid was standing by his mother. Or maybe her mother. It was hard to tell whether the child was a boy or a girl. But I think he was a boy. He was looking in my direction, so I waved at him. He gave me a blank look. Assuming that he didn’t notice me, I waved again. He blinked, frowned for a second, and cracked a smile; he seemed interested. I waved with both hands this time, mixed with a little bit of dance move. His smile was wider now. I opened my mouth, and made a funny look to make him laugh. He didn’t laugh, although, his little round white teeth were perfectly visible. He looked around him, and bent to pick something off the floor, or out of a box or something. I couldn’t see what was by his side. He stood back up, and raised his arm to show me what he’s got. A potato; he was showing me a potato. I laughed. I looked at him again, and laughed even harder.

His mother noticed him and the little game going on between us. She smiled too, although she couldn’t make sense. She asked him something. He was too young to speak.