my mind of this irrepressible urge； I
retired to a corner of the room； as was my wont； but after a while I realized I
couldn’t jack off—proof well enough that I’d fallen in love again after twelve
years！
This struck such excitement and fear into my heart that I walked around the
room nearly atremble like the flame of the candle。 If Shekure meant to present
herself at the window； then why this letter； which put the opposite belief into
play？ Why did her father call for me？ As I paced； I sensed that the door； wall
and squeaky floor； stuttering as I myself did； were trying to creak their
responses to my every question。
I looked at the picture I’d made years ago； which depicted Shirin stricken
with love upon gazing at Hüsrev’s image hanging from a branch。 It didn’t
59
embarrass me as it would each time it came to mind in subsequent years； nor
did it bring back my happy childhood memories。 Toward morning； my mind
had mastered the situation： By returning the picture； Shekure had made a
move in an amatory chess game she was masterfully luring me into。 I sat in
the candlelight and wrote her a letter of response。
In the morning； after sleeping for a spell； I went out and walked a long way
through the streets； carrying the letter upon my breast and my light pen…and…
ink holder； as was my custom； in my sash。 The snow widened Istanbul’s
narrow streets and freed the city of its crowds。 All was quieter and slower； as
it’d been in my childhood。 Crows seemed to have beset Istanbul’s roofs；
domes and gardens just as they had on the snowy winter days of my youth。 I