Sci-fi Novel - The Dream Artist - Part 1

I went to bed early to wake up in time in the morning, but I couldn't sleep. I found myself thinking about what I was going to say to Nur when I was chasing the sleep fairy. So my excitement increased more, and my sleep was gone. My greatest fear was not to be with Nur as soon as the cemetery opened. I haven't been late for four years on any death anniversary day, and this time I didn't intend to be late.

When I realized it was impossible for me to sleep, I got up and went across the wall-screen in the hall. I have bought the flowers for Nur in advance and put them in the water, determined the clothes I was going to wear and set them aside. I thought all the preparations I had to do were complete.

I liked the first part of the sci-fi series recommended by the wall-screen. So I watched the remaining five episodes one after the other. When the series was over, the clock was now so late that it was meaningless to sleep. When I was laying on the sofa in the living room half numb, the sound of explosions came out of the sky. I looked out the window, and missiles were being sent to the sky from the meteorological towers scattered all over Istanbul to prevent a hurricane approaching. After spending some time at home, I walked out of my apartment to the elevator, and I went on the runway on the terrace. The weather hasn't begun to light up yet. I got on my quadcopter and told it to take me to Alibeykoy cemetery.

As I was approaching the cemetery, the memories of the beautiful days we spent with Nur attacked my mind. The clearest image in my mind was walking on a beach in Antalya when the sunlight hit her hair from behind. I remembered how happy I was in that beautiful July afternoon when I watched Nur's hair shining in the light. All that beauty was left behind. The raindrops were concentrated and dispersed in the glass of the quadcopter, and the climate bombs in the sky continued to burst one after the other.

After landing on the municipal runway near Alibeyköy cemetery, I silently waited for the guard to come in and open the door of the cemetery. The guard was a disciplined man, I didn't have to wait too long. When the door opened, I walked with a bunch of flowers in my hand and I went to Nur's grave. In spite of all the missiles thrown, it was pouring rain on the cemetery. I had rainwater flowing through my hair, flowing down my neck, soaking wet to my bones. I left the flowers I brought next to Nur's gravestone, and none of the words I thought I'd say to her came to my mind. She was under the ground, and I was alive. It was a great injustice because Nur was better than me. I just stood there and I didn't know what to do. Unfortunately, there was no other woman like Nur on Earth. After a few minutes of tears at her grave, I left without saying goodbye to her.

I went home, put on my pajamas and went to bed. My body was numb due to insomnia and sadness, and when I was asleep, a message came to my mobile computer with “emergency” code. My ex-boss Tunç wanted me to be at the address he gave in the official suit in an hour. I got up by reading curses of my black fortune; I told my service android Asima to prepare me something to eat, I changed, I had breakfast, and left the House. With the help of the climate bombs, the clouds scattered in the sky and the morning sun started to light up.

About ten minutes later, I landed on the runway of the historic building on the shore of Istanbul Strait with my quadcopter. The sound of the four propellers humming on me stopped, the door of my quadcopter was opened, and I landed. My body wasn't comfortable in suits I hadn't worn in a long time. I think I've come to the end of a long vacation. Both the attitude they took when calling and the nature of the meeting place showed that the work was serious. I was caught in the moving shadow of the plane tree next to the track. Instead of walking down the hill, I sat down at one of the tree-facing banks. Under the sky that was washed by the rain, the image of the plane tree was admirable. Under the special light of the morning sun, the large leaves of the tree were released in sweet harmony. In addition to the plane tree, I looked at pine trees, linden trees with bare branches on top, and poplar trees with leaves dancing in the wind. A pack of crows came and was put in the branches of the tree. For a while, they looked around. One of the crows cawed as if it was angry at the others. The other crows, who heard this sound echoing in the silence of the morning, stood still, looking at the raven black crow, like the Dervishes enchanted by a melody. The big crow cawed again with its strong voice during the silence of the other crows. Then they all took off and disappeared behind the trees as if nothing had happened. My mother would have interpreted this as a sign of bad luck to me.

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