The Carrots of the Salad

I saw you, my sister, not in real but in my dream. How I miss you now I understood.

It was a usual day for us; I was there, in Turkey, at my home. In the kitchen I was making a salad for dinner. Everything is in its same place; the oven, the cooker, the refrigerator, the table, the carpet… All the things were same in color and form as I left behind when I was coming here. On the kitchen workbench I am cutting vegetables for the salad. Then I remembered something that I forgot to put carrot into the salad. My hands are not suitable, I am asking your help to take the carrots from refrigerator and calling you; Busraaaa…

Then, I realized that I am still here when I suddenly opened my eyes, no salad, no kitchen… Where is my Busra? Where is my kitchen? Where are the carrots, Busra? Why don’t you listen to your sister, why just don’t you bring the carrots to me? Where are you now my dear??

I am awake now; there is nothing from them anymore. Even in dream I couldn’t see her also. It was nice to be at home, beside my mom and sisters like the old-times.

Never mind, I have to go on to live here. I have to…