THE WEIGHT OF THE REAL WORLD
Murat stood before the mirror, running his fingertips over the stubble thickening along his jaw. Instead of light passing through him as it had for so long, he now felt the warmth of the sun on his face and the tension of his own skin. He hadn't forgotten how to be human; on the contrary, he was rediscovering every sensation with an eager appetite, as if unwrapping a package for the very first time. Selin was standing in the doorway watching him. "Deep thoughts, Mert Bey?" she said, nodding toward his new identity. Murat met her gaze through the mirror. "I'm not thinking, Selin — I'm feeling. When I was a ghost, the world streamed past me like a film reel; I couldn't touch anything. Now even gravity, the fabric of clothes against my skin, even this reflection in the mirror — it all press
- Writer
