Paroles Paroles by Dalida
Summer in Portofino was warm and wherever you went you could smell the sweet scent of bougainvilleas. The tourists and the locals' laughter made the Italian Riviera even more lively. The pastel-colored houses welcomed anyone who sought shelter from the dizzying sun. And that was exactly how our two lovers first met each other.
Muttering to herself, Ajda hurried into the closest store she could use as a shelter from the midday sun. It was a purple-colored building that was decorated with flower paintings outside that looked distinctly like children’s coloring. Nevertheless, it gave the two-story building a warm hue and it would at least be cool enough for her to not faint like she did last summer.
Getting in, she was pleasantly surprised to find it to be a bookstore. It was slightly too organized for her taste but it had brown leather armchairs in the middle and any corner she turned to had white long bookshelves that contained colorful books. Little trinkets sat on the shelves sometimes and you could see the occasional plant here and there.
Slowly browsing the shelves, she picked up a few books from the mythology section and then was met with the romance section. Starting to look from right to left, she finally found the book she was looking for and picked it up.
“Don’t buy that book, it’s shit.” A sudden voice drawled, interrupting her glee. Turning around, she was met with a tall dark-haired man who had a smirk on his face that meant no good. He wore a white tank top and white flowy trousers that resembled 40’s fashion. He too carried a few books and she could catch the titles “The Man Who Counted” by Malba Tahan and “Quantum Mechanics: The Theoretical Minimum” and Ajda literally snorted.
“And who are you, the accountant of Portofino?” Cradling the book she loved ever so dearly to her chest, she held her chin up and sent him a challenging look.
Chuckling, the young man looked at the floor for a minute and then gazed back at her brown eyes, “It’s not realistic at all. Forced proximity is quite a ridiculous trope, don’t you think?” He snatched the book from her, ignoring her gasp, and started skimming the pages quickly.
His long fingers flipped the pages while continuing his annoying rant, “The girl tirelessly writes poems* for the boy but what does he do? He ignores her letters and he’s portrayed as her oh, one true love , if that’s the love the writer preaches than I would rather not experience this pitiful exercise.”
Gaping at the rude boy, Ajda just stared at him dumbly as he finally found the page he was looking for and started reading in his deep voice that itched a part of her brain, she found herself wanting to listen to him read for eternity. Such a pity he was a dick.
“I’m obliged to you, you wouldn’t know,
Your name is pinned to my mind.
Your eyes get bigger as time goes on,
I’m obliged to you, you wouldn’t know,
I warm my soul with yours.
The trees are preparing for autumn,
Is this city the old Istanbul that I know?
Clouds start breaking from each other in this dark,
The street lights start flashing brightly.
The smell of rain stayed on the sidewalks,
I'm obligated to you, and you're gone."
He stopped reading and gazed up at her from his lashes and smiled crookedly, “She’s a fool.”
Ajda pursed her lips, “I wrote this book.”
Putting her freshly painted red nails on the back, she pointed at the picture she got taken last winter. She wore a huge smile and tilted her head a little bit to the left. Her friend Ruby had asked to take her picture and she had had so much fun in the studio that her jaw had ached for the whole night.
In bold blue letters, her name was printed on the back and a summary of her was written by the kind interpreter who sang her praises.
“Ajda Akarsu - Graduated from the prestigious university of Bosphorus, Akarsu started writing at the age of 6 and won many competitions along the way. She’s known for her poetic writing and unconventional character studies that make the readers feel a variety of emotions. Her book “Dishevelled” tells the story of a young woman who moved to a metropolitan city, leaving her rural smaller town and her troubles with femininity, adulthood, and sense of self. Romance also ensues in this book which will leave you with a broken sense of happiness at the end. The writer’s other books “Woman Who Love Too Much” and “A Snowflake Melts In My Mouth” are worth a read. Ajda now works on her new book that will come out this November.”
The now speechless boy gaped at her and flipped the book to the place she was pointing at and read for a few seconds and cleared his throat, “Well, at least there is no one bed trope…”
Growling, she turned and marched to the lone man that sat on the stool who witnessed their little fight, quickly paid for her mythology books, and got out with a flash of her sundress that resembled the bougainvillea's pink outside of the shop and was met with the disgusting summer heat she had run away from. Currently, she would prefer to faint than stay within a 2-meter proximity to the dick.
The heat slowed her movements as she decided on walking back to the house she had rented for the summer up on the hill. She was sure she would be muscly at the end of this trip from all of the stairs she had to climb. Putting her beige-colored hat and sunglasses on, she took out her orange fan and started to fan her cheeks which had gotten red from the heat. No, she refused to accept that the little weasel had gotten on her nerves.
Her father was right, the reason Mediterranean people were so slow was from the sun. She had spent her childhood going on holidays to the Turquoise Coast. Turkey's southern Mediterranean region was filled with mountains that were vibrant green and filled with fresh banana trees she always nicked a few from. The warm waters housed many tourists and locals, and she had tons of fun making friends with the people who didn’t speak the language. They had thought her English and she had thought them Turkish. She still talked to Pietro and Min to this day.
The trio had frequented the theatre all summer and watched Turkish dancers who performed traditional folk dances. The one she had been mesmerized by was Ah Bir Ataş Ver**. The backstory had made her childhood self quite melancholy. She had watched the dancers move slowly and confidently as the men kneeled, slowly hitting the floor with cold stares and then jumping back up and turning slowly.
When she got back home, she asked her dad why the dancers moved so unhurriedly and the answer she got was “heat” with a small chuckle he continued, “People who live in coastal towns are always relaxed and drowsy.”
The 6-year-old nodded and asked, a frown on her brows “Our town is hot too but we always move quickly?”
Her dad had looked at her for a minute then and said “in the East, people move quickly. Because otherwise, how would they make money? The situations are different.”
Maybe that was why she had always moved quickly, time had to be spent on your job and your job solely. You had no time to waste. Working from the age of 6 to 26 had thought her that if you have a job, you have to do it the best. An effort was needed and time was a tool you could use to broaden your mind.
Reaching the bright orange villa, Ajda pushed open the short brown doors that held the number “3” pinned on its middle and was met with the garden she had spent her evenings since June. The garden was large and filled with flowers she had been instructed to water every day and there was a spacious pool she spent swimming in every morning.
Getting out of her sandals and walking on the cool grass for a minute, she rolled her shoulders and took a deep breath. The sweet scent of Lilac and Peonies reached her nostrils and she could feel the stress flowing out of her body when she breathed out.
Reaching the door to her temporary home, she unlocked it and stepped in. Going on a vacation alone would be hard but it was crucial for her mental health, her therapist had said. She needed to learn how to enjoy her company alone and get to know herself. Ajda had called this part of her life “self-dating”, and it involved eating ice cream all day and reading peacefully so it was a win-win situation for her. But she had to admit, it got a bit boring from time to time.
She had decided on running a bath and then perhaps for a late afternoon swim on the beach not so far from here. Walking to the spacious bathroom, she gathered a few products from the cupboard and started to undress. Her skin had tanned a lot over the month she had stayed here.
She picked up a book she had bought from the bookshop and put it on the floor beside the tub. Getting into the lukewarm water filled with bubbles, she let out a satisfied sigh and let herself relax for a minute.
Picking the book up, she started reading. “The myth, which is the common language used by humanity, is a generally accepted belief even though it is said to be unrealistic-”