Angol
The sea was growing more violent...
Dawn was breaking...
"Look out there..."
In the distance, pitch-black clouds and relentless flashes of lightning!
"I think the Atlantic is about to give us a welcome!"
"It's a storm. Let's get ready to take a beating."
"An ocean wouldn't be an ocean without storms. We have to live through this moment."
He was leaving it all behind on a ferry-his youth, his past, his dreams. "If there is such a thing as an end, this must be it," he whispered to himself... Could an end come this abruptly in a person's life? Whenever there was a suitcase in his hand, he felt he was moving toward the unknown. Looking down at the churning foam in the ship's wake... "Fate," he would say every time. But was it really? Or was it something else? And falling in love the very moment he saw her! Was it a coincidence, or was that fate too? What difference did it make anyway? Falling in love had no reason, no interrogation, no explanation. The "inner self" simply said, "I am in love," and the rest was just the body and mind submitting to that truth. Though it seemed complicated, that's exactly what love was... At once simple... and complex... and sometimes, completely chaotic. He had lived this thing called life across three islands... He was a naval officer... Lieutenant Poyraz... Of Bozcaada... Of Heybeliada... Of Manhattan... If you ask, "Where is he now?"... Who knows, perhaps on another island...
