Day 2 – The Second Envelope
The morning chill blended with the silence scattered among the ruins. Zeynep had read the letter over and over again throughout the night, adding her own silence to the loneliness between the lines. The sentence “Hope is also an obligation for those who wait…” was still echoing in her ears.
As she returned to the train station, something seemed to be calling her. At first, she couldn’t understand it. But then her eyes caught sight of a stone at the base of a collapsed pillar. The ground beneath it looked slightly raised. When she reached out—yes, a second envelope.
With a shiver of excitement, she opened it. This time the date was the 30th of Ramadan, 1361. That meant two days after the first letter.
“O peace of my heart,” it began.
“Today is Eid… But here there is neither call to prayer nor takbir. Only the sound of bullets. Yet, as I write this letter, a flower of Eid blooms in my heart. God has bound us to each other through prayer. If prayers cease, hope dies.”
Zeynep took a deep breath. These words seemed to be written not just to a woman, but to time itself. “So even on Eid, prayers must not stop…” she murmured.
At that moment, she was startled by a faint rustling behind her. Was someone behind the ruined wall?
“Who’s there?” she asked. No answer came.
But after taking a few steps, she found a dried rose lying on the ground.
It had withered, but still held its scent.
Just like hope…
Withered, crushed… but still alive.
And that night, she heard a voice in her dream:
“Keep writing. Write so that those who are lost may return.”
When Zeynep woke up in the morning, she knew she wouldn’t just collect the letters—
She would begin to write her own story, too.
But the third letter waiting for her the next day would open the doors of the past in a completely diff
erent way…
To be continued…
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