... and than one day he was gone. Not that it made much of a difference. He was an old man by passers smiled at when they saw him. Once they walked past him he was long forgotten. Took his place among those faces we forget on a daily basis. Nobody remembered his name either. He was the old man of the neighbourhood whose time was long past. And after he went to meet his maker all he caused was more inconvenience. They carried away his furniture. They gave away his clothes. His mantel went to the beggar. His shoes were too old and battered to give away. When the last piece was gone, they were ready to lock the doors of his house. It was as if he never existed.

Sema Nur Ketenci