As part of our partnership with Ilkyaz, here is a piece of short fiction written by Turkish writer, Umal Sila Güzel entitled The Little (Red) FishJune 13, 2019
This is published as part of our partnership with Ilkyaz
Tarik Bugra Social Studies High School, 10th Grade, Aksehir/Konya. Born: 2002/Mersin
The ocean of attitude and noise, which was starved for insight, was unaware of the difference between a shark and a gold fish. Clogging the flow of its lone existence, those eyes witnessed lands built on dreams and illusions and lives of every being; but through all, it could distinguish the sky and that was surely enough. This was the reason why, eyes never recognized how drained The Little Fish was, who created itself from ash and the path it took towards infinity. The shark only kept to the stream of its gigantic being and waited for the end of time. On the other hand, the little fish was neither gigantic nor had the patience to wait for timelessness. The Little Fish detached from the ashes of a flaming dream and began swimming.
It encountered streams of conscience among cold and silent screams. Each stream followed an order. They crashed into each other and got destroyed for the sake of destroying; one moment they decreased and increased in another. After a long time of scattering around, Little Fish had to coincide with a stream of conscience which could hear her. This unreasonable chaos had to have a solid explanation to ease The Little Fish’s flitting and flashing wonder, even for a little while. But after streams of conscience turned into ash once and for all, the unreasonable chaos intensified and spread. The little fish kept following orders. Orders which never seemed to end. The source to these orders was an invisible heavy mass which had a single purpose of existence; to keep fear alive and strong. The orders got heavier and heavier every time they were heard and regarded. The Little Fish felt fear conquering every speck of its being. It swam towards warm waters to defeat it.
The specks of its soul drifted apart and scattered around, causing The Little Fish to hold a larger space and grow. Fear glided between its specks and it got smaller and smaller and eventually disappeared. In an amount of time that cannot be described by any measurable time frame, The Little Fish got carried away by a stream it never knew existed. It could hear silent screams once more but these were different. There were unexpected, grand narratives and creeds in these screams. As The Little Fish listened, it’s body of ash grew bigger and then smaller and it drifted in wonderous oceans of different emotions. This stream ended quickly; it was worth the infinite. When all the screaming faded, The Little Fish was left alone. It then realized, there was nothing left to say. ‘How bitter,’ it thought, ‘If I never had anything to say, why did I build myself from ash? What if I brought absence into existence?’
The little fish shone bright. It illuminated the space. The ashes of its creation ignited…
It was formed from the ashes of a burning dream. Now by questioning the colour of this very water, the little fish became the one to create its own dreams.