The Drill Operation
780 Words
Selin had shaken off the fatigue from last night’s dinner and was watching the sea from the window with her coffee, Murat beside her. Murat was playing with Selin’s hair (she only felt a slight tingle), and they were enjoying a peaceful silence. Until that familiar doorbell rang again.
When Selin opened the door, she found Kerem standing there. Kerem had a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead and a shelf piece in his hand.
“Selin, I’m so sorry to bother you again but… I’m trying to assemble a bookshelf in my apartment, and my drill’s battery died. Do you have a charged drill or a screwdriver set? My dad said, ‘Selin’s father would have all kinds of tools, ask Selin.’”
Selin hesitated for a moment. Murat appeared behind the door and rolled his eyes. “Her father really found his man… He’s asking for a drill! Selin, say ‘no,’ say ‘we only read poetry in this house!’”
“Actually… Murat had a toolbox in his study,” Selin said, despite Murat’s angry looks. “Come in, let me check.”
Scene: Murat’s Fortress Under Invasion
When Kerem came inside, they headed straight to the study—Murat’s “sacred space.” With each step Kerem took, Murat made the room’s air a bit colder.
“Wow, what a beautiful room,” Kerem said, looking at the books on the walls and the antique objects on the desk. “A true intellectual sanctuary.”
Selin pulled the dusty toolbox from under the cabinet. When Kerem opened it, his eyes lit up. “This is it! Exactly what I need. If you want… I mean, if you have time, I could also fix that wobbly kitchen shelf of yours? I noticed it last night, looks a bit dangerous.”
Murat perched on the desk, gritting his teeth. “The reason that shelf wobbles is ME, Selin! I lean on it sometimes. Is this guy playing handyman in my house now?”
Selin, inwardly laughing at Murat’s reaction, turned to Kerem. “Don’t go to the trouble, Kerem? I could call a professional.”
“Not at all, what are neighbors for?” Kerem said, attaching the drill bit and making a “buzzz” sound.
Scene: Drill Sounds and Invisible Obstacles
When Kerem moved to the kitchen to focus on the shelf, Murat immediately followed. Just as Kerem was about to seat the screw properly, Murat blew the screw slightly to the side. It fell to the floor.
“Oops… slipped from my hand,” Kerem said, bending down to pick up the screw.
Second attempt: Murat blew on Kerem’s hand. The drill bit loosened.
Third attempt: Murat positioned himself between Kerem and the shelf. The temperature dropped so much that Kerem pulled his jacket tighter.
“Is your heating not working, Selin? It’s freezing in here.”
“Must be the weather,” Selin said quickly, shooting Murat a warning look. “Would you like some hot tea?”
“That would be great, actually.”
While Selin went to make tea, Murat stood right in front of Kerem’s face. “Listen, Bob the Builder. That shelf is mine. This house is mine. That woman making you tea? Also mine. I died for her. What did you do? Brought chocolates?”
Of course, Kerem heard none of this. But he felt something. An inexplicable unease. A sense that he was being watched. Judged. And found wanting.
When Selin returned with tea, she found Kerem staring at the empty air where Murat stood, a confused expression on his face.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, just… do you ever feel like someone’s watching you in this apartment?”
Selin’s heart skipped. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. Just a weird feeling.” He shook it off. “Probably just tired. Let me finish this shelf and get out of your hair.”
Ten minutes later, the shelf was fixed. Kerem gathered his tools and headed to the door.
“Thanks for lending me the drill. And sorry for the invasion.”
“It’s fine. Thanks for fixing the shelf.”
After he left, Selin turned to where she felt Murat. “That was petty. Even for you.”
“He was in my study. Touching my tools. Fixing things in my house. What did you expect?”
“I expected you to be mature about this.”
“I’m dead, Selin. Maturity is no longer my strong suit.”
Despite herself, she smiled. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love me anyway.”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
- Writer
