He could see the bullet in the gun’s barrel, whirling towards him.
Freddie’s harmonics started at the same moment the smell of lilacs hit his nose, singing an amazing feeling coming through. He was surprised to see how beautiful was the face of the man who was holding the gun. How did he miss the arresting canary yellow of that single flower sprout through the cracks of the pavement? Suddenly he tasted the ocean. I was born to love you. A piano never sounded this wonderful.
A hand slowly touched his back. A hand cup his cheek. Another landed gently on his shoulder. Another on the other shoulder. And another. Countless hands. With every single beat of my heart. He saw his grandmother petting his head as she used to do when he was a little boy, which had always put him to the happiest of sleeps. He felt how proud each person around him was, as he always felt when he looked at his daughter. Yes, I was born to take care of you.
He remembered the brilliant summer day they had in the park last year. His wife baked most delicious blueberry muffins, he could still taste them, and they brought a large thermos of tea, which felt bottomless. Every single day of my life. The warm sun on their face, they chased after the frisbee, read books aloud, and his daughter drew the stories with crayons. The smells of horse-chestnuts and silver limes, mixed with boiled corn and fresh crushed grass, was still alive in his nose. They fell asleep watching the clouds, wife on his left, daughter on his right.
He watched his daughter fly towards the clouds in her swimsuit, beaming with the pure rapture of a three year old, arms widespread, eyes reflecting the shimmering sea. Her liquid laughter was the song he could never have enough. You are the one for me. He caught her midair and they dived underwater where he saw his wife’s face in front of him, smiling mischievously, her auburn hair flowing upwards like a mermaid queen. I am the man for you. They kissed for a fleeting second and when they broke the surface he took a big breath, waves turn to sheets, sweat dripping salty, hands locked, he came in her, You were made for me, her irises like deep cobalt canyons him falling caught by a firm hand behind the saddle and gave him a push, You’re my ecstasy, he felt the balance and was riding the bike, wind on his face dribbled the ball and kicked and scored! He jumped with jubilation and fell to the couch next to a chess board between him and his father smiling at him expectantly and he found the best move to his mother’s heavenly milk before he was blinded by a bright light, If I was given every opportunity.
A heart beat.
Orkun's Journal 