What If I Am Not the One to Move On?

Snow and rain had been taking turns the entire day in Istanbul, and some parts of the city had already lost electricity before noon. A few stores closed early (if they did not have power generators), and a few employees waited in the dark until a glimpse of electricity hit the cables. I slowly glided the streets of Istanbul in an effort to buy some Christmas-themed giftwrap, but most of the places had run out by December 29. Consumed by my holiday season obsession, I had completely forgotten about power outages until my entire neighborhood hid under a blanket of darkness a few seconds after I got home and turned on my computer to write. Around 7 p.m., I was lying in my bedroom solely illuminated by the screen of my laptop, and my grandmother appeared as a shadow at my open door. Barely five feet with a sloppy pixie cut, <a href="https://deno.medium.com/what-if-i-am-not-the-one-to-move-on-1d77d6e7c119">Learn More</a>