1986 – by Cara

A girl stands by her parents’ car at the gates to the air base. They’re all looking for someone. The air is hot and smells of dust and pine needles. The road is lined with shops selling brass and carpets and souvenirs for the US airmen posted overseas. When this family return home, they will bring with them a carpet too big for any of the rooms in their house, a lantern and several dolls in traditional dress.

They flew into Turkey six months ago, just the girl, her sister and her mother, following her father. At first, they lived in a flat in a tower block. On each floor, the balconies were dark brown, curving out from the main tower. If you lay on the floor, there was a gap of about an inch. The girl would lie there until she felt dizzy, watching the busy traffic.

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Remembering Too – Ian A

(This is a companion piece to Remembering – Part 2)

When I woke that morning the air was strange. I could sense it on the breeze that moved the curtains covering the open window of my bedroom. Looking out past the material I could see a thin trail of smoke rising into the sky from a site the other side of town. I closed the window, pulled on a dressing gown and went downstairs.

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