Based on Real Contradictions (Ch. 7)

Chapter 7: Trouble

(Chapter 6 may be found here)

ONUR’S BEDROOM – Firat awoke with a start, fully clothed and on top of the covers of Onur’s bed, to the at once familiar and alien sound of Boston traffic outside Onur’s window. He looked over to see the cold ashtray full of ashes where Onur had been smoking at his desk earlier.

“Onur?”

Onur wasn’t home. Had he gone to a class, or to work? Nevermind. He searched his pockets for his phone, but found nothing. He searched the bed, and found only his wallet, which had fallen out and let loose the mess of mostly maxed-out credit cards and various forms of identification within.

“Gelo min li mala Berenê hişt?”

If only he hadn’t forgotten his phone there, if only he hadn’t been so combative last night, if only he hadn’t gotten himself deported in the first place, if only he had never gotten mixed up in politics even in… his ever-escalating calculations of the various forms of self-sabotage in which he had been engaged were cut short before he could blame himself for his own conception and birth, by a soft buzzing.

Where was the sound coming from?

Buzz. Buzz.