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A Cat Died Today

Today's Headlines 
A cat died today. 
The boy with the bewildered eyes waiting for the last bus at the bus stop and I were just left there looking at each other. 
A cat died today.
No one except me was even sorry… 
I put her in the trash bin. What little blood she had stuck to my hands. 
...
It was the hour everyone was leaving the bars.
Or they were just arriving, for all I know.
Actually it was a time of exchange. 
Some have to return home at midnight before their cars turn into pumpkins.
And some leave their homes at 11 PM for the bars. 
The first light of day marks the end of the night.
Sometimes a woman's home, sometimes a man's, 
and sometimes a hotel room is the 
foreign play field...
But the morning comes nonetheless. 
So among the irreplaceable views of Saturday or Sunday mornings, those who are careful see the
people in night clothes, in slight disorder and without rest, waiting for taxies or trying to
bring a resemblance of order to their hair on the mirrors of their cars. 

A time of exchange. So 
there was a fast flowing traffic on the Güvenlik Street. 
People leaving North Shields...
The bar just a little way down, whose name changes frequently, overflowing with people, 
The new night crew entering North and so on... 
For whatever reason I don't know, I was driving down Güvenlik Street... 
I saw the cat; she was a stray cat, like me...
She was crossing the street 
One of the small cars much preferred by midget men full of complexes, 
with a meaningless front spoiler 
was too fast. 
I knew she was going to be run over… 
She was... 
I saw her somersaults under the car. 
And the car left. 
I slowed down, blocking the traffic,
I switched on my flasher lights; 
getting out of the car,
I put the cat down on the ground beside the guy looking stupidly at me in the bus stop. 
I didn't care about the horns beeping behind me,
I got in the car and parked it just in front of a sign saying 

GARAGE ENTRANCE. PLEASE DON'T PARK. 
Among the tick-tacks of the flasher lights, I laid the cat in front of the headlights.
She was writhing,
letting out frail meows in slightly evident intervals...
She had no chance of survival.
She was dying.
Who cared..?
I DID
And...?
A few women I know. 
Her blood was on my hands.
She was a beautiful cat. 
Cats also come as beautiful and ugly. 
My cat is beautiful for example. Totally black. 
Her stare can scare you. 
Even though she doesn't like me,
being a female, she puts up with me when she's hungry
The brats of the block who terrorize Mestan, the cat of my neighbor upstairs, Basak,
stay away from my cat, for example. 
The beautiful and tiny cat is looking at me, 
breathing quickly,
but no more meows. 
I am not down with sorrow.
What would she do if I were to die...? 
Just go her way.. 
But I didn't want to go my way before she died. 
It must be sweet to have someone by your side 
when dying. 
It's not nice to die alone. 
I tried it...
On a warm day in July in Bodrum, I skidded
over the waters spilt from a stupid tractor on an empty road
and was swept under my giant bike. 
I flew over the bank.
No one had seen anything. 
I was tired. 
I wanted to sleep.
A very sweet feeling swelled in me.
I was dying. 
Without fear and full of peace. 

There was no film tape running through my mind.
It was clear what I had done and not done. 
There was only one thing that held me back. 
One single thing. 
My son. 
He was still so young and didn't know me. 
We needed time with each other. 

And I decided against dying.
I would have, if I had let myself go. 
I know I would have.
The cat had let herself go. 
The breathing was slowing down. 
The memories were apparently few. 
She was at most 6 months old. 
I said to her 'Come little kitten, die.' 
You have no chance of survival. 
You're already in shock. 
Believe me, if you would survive, I would take you to the ER. 
And the non-existing cat news agency couldn't air to the feline listeners the news that 
you had died on the way to the hospital. 
There was nobody around. 
The last bus had left. 
I was sitting on the garden wall with my back to the street.
La Traviata was still heard among the tick-tacks of the flasher lights. 
Violetta was soon going to die in her lover's arms. 
The cat was dead before Violetta. 
I first wrapped her with the shirt in the trunk, which our pianist Lual
had bought me for my birthday last year. And then I put her in the small box I 
used for my books and laid her beside the trash bin.
Other animals would not be able to disturb her there. 
She would sleep in peace until the cleaning crews arrived.
When I got back to my car, Violetta had died and been resurrected. 
The CD was back to the beginning… 
I realized my phone was tired of vibrating. 
- Hello... 
- Where the hell are you...
- A cat died... 
- Sorry, who?
- A cat died... 
- Yeah, well but why aren't you answering the phone...? 
- F..k you! 

I threw the phone on the seat without hanging up. 
Not only the cat's death,
a lot of things kept coming straight in my face. 
I was spending the salary of a regular worker in a single night.
I was unhappy.
I was in debt. 
Debts I couldn't pay. 
And credits I couldn't collect.
But the world wouldn't turn without these struggles anyway. 

The phone started vibrating again. 
I didn't pick it up. 
A cat died tonight. 
Nobody cares about it. 
Not even the cat, since she's dead. 
But I was there. 
I held her paws. 
I wish someone would be by my side when I die,
just to hold my hand... 

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