Hope
The room appears sparce, the summer daylight spread out on the laminate floor; there is a TV clearly on from the side angle. A woman is sitting upright on a kitchen chair, on attention, like an old general ready for one last battle which she is. Her sister films this monumental moment. Her mother turns to the camera “This is an important moment.”
The inevitable had happened, the elderly one who woke up one morning and instead of having breakfast decided unilaterally to reclaim the party, is not going anywhere. So, the dynamic one has decided to take the ball home “as this is not fair,” and is taking all the players with him to set up a new team - party. Leaving the aged one to be master of only his own house.
“Yeni! Yeni! Yeni!“ It felt like a bird singing at the dawn chorus but it was my wife dancing around the room. “Yeni Parti.” (New Party.) Half-awake, unsure if I was dreaming, “Are we having a party? I don’t remember the old party we had, who came?” Then slowly the cogs in my head started turning and I sat watching a very dapper and striking logo, a cross between Coke and Nike. It looked hopeful, even joyous. We vowed even if we disagreed about anything today, we would start the day again New. Everything was coming up roses, so I ordered my wife some.
The main news channels reported it like it was a death nail in their own coffin, panic on the newscaster’s face as he saw his new yacht sailing away.
On others it was a Cheshire Cat smiling, licking their lips in pure joy.
The leader of the ‘Yeni Party’ first went to Friday prayers, almost carried by the crowd in religious like fervour.
The party would be officially launched at 2pm outside the old parliament; at the stroke of a pen, they were overnight the official opposition party.
The old guy could see the three letters of his party falling down from the building, which was collapsing on him.
On the streets they marched, walked and followed, a great burden is on him, the hopes of thousands maybe millions, back to better times and into new ones.
What happens next is up to you and you and you, and your party?
David R. Mellor is from Liverpool, England. He spent his late teens homeless on Merseyside. He is currently writing and performing in Turkey. His work has been featured by the BBC and the Tate, and his published collections of poetry are What a Catch (2013), Some Body (2013), Express Nothing (2019) and So This Is It (2020). His collection of stories An Englishman in Turkey – Türkiye’de Bir İngiliz is recently published in Turkish.
