The letter was perfectly civil.
Stiff, official paper.Three logos.Two stamps.
Subject line:
"Request for Clarification – Memory Alignment Department"
It began with:
"We appreciate your ongoing contribution to the national discourse and respectfully invite you to provide context for recent patterns of language misinterpretation attributed to your public presence."
Emir read it three times.
Then muttered:
— "I think they just accused me of being… too inspiring."
He went.
Because curiosity is stronger than avoidance.
And because, somewhere deep down,he wanted to see what they looked likewhen they tried to manage a fog.
—
The room was beige.
Two chairs.One fan.A window that had clearly been painted shut during the previous administration.
The bureaucrat was young.Well-meaning.Exhausted in the way only ambitious people get when they realize paperwork is endless.
He smiled like someone who'd been told to keep it friendly but firm.
— "Thank you for coming, Mr. Kara.We just wanted to clear up a few inconsistencies in interpretation."
— "You mean… thinking?"
The man blinked.
— "We're noticing deviations in how your work is being applied in learning environments and informal gatherings."
— "Is that illegal now?"
— "Not illegal, no.But… inefficient."
Emir leaned back in his chair.
— "You think I'm a glitch in your civic software."
— "We think you're running a separate system.One we can't patch."
—
"You're not a bug," Atatürk murmured with a grin,"You're the update they keep delaying."
—
The bureaucrat slid a folder across the table.
— "We've compiled some of your most misinterpreted phrases.We'd appreciate clarification on what you actually meant."
Emir opened the folder.
On page one:
"If you remember, say it out loud."Misinterpretation Risk: Medium to HighSuggested Correction: "If appropriate, contribute respectfully to civic narratives."
He closed the folder.
— "You want me to translate poetry into policy."
— "We want to prevent narrative drift."
— "You want to keep the statue talking,but only about the weather."
The man exhaled.
— "Look… you're not an enemy.We just need to know how to explain you."
Emir stood.
— "Don't.Explain the conditions that made me necessary.Then you'll never need another one."
He walked out.
The man didn't stop him.
He just sat there,wondering if he'd just been correctedby the very problem he was asked to solve.
—
That night, Emir wrote:
"They want to understand me so they can rephrase me.And in doing so, explain away the silence that made me real."
"But I was never the voice.I was the pause between the voices they ignored."