My Foreign Husband
When you touch the wall next to the drinking fountain and answer your cell phone, my ears pick up some words, but I quickly realize that they are not in my language and that there is no point in being heard.
If it were at another time, I would have continued to look at the white wall in front of me, meditating to forget that someone I love is on the verge of death, but now it no longer seems to me such a big coincidence to hear a stranger speaking in Turkish. Even less is to have the small impression that my name is said in the foreign language, followed by a quick "yes".
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