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by Sarp Sozdinler
It all takes place in my mind. I close my eyes and will them into being. When I get old, I’ll show my kids the pictures I’ve kept of him in the family album. Young, beautiful, not-Dad-shaped men I made up for them. Don’t meet your idols, I’ll probably say. Don’t meet your maker.
A Turkish writer, Sarp Sozdinler’s fiction has appeared in Electric Literature, Kenyon Review, Trampset, Bending Genres, Maudlin House, and elsewhere. You can find him online as @sarpsozdinler or at www.sarpsozdinler.com.
