A bridge packed with cars, straining under the weight of two continents — and two lives crossing for only a moment.
A stark look at Turkey’s socioeconomic divide, an Uber driver with a 4.9-star rating, and the quiet failure of people to truly understand one another.

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Taxi Ride that Lasts Lifetimes

Fisun had been at the opening of Gaye’s exhibition in Kadıköy. Gaye is Fisun’s best friend and this exhibition was very important to Gaye. It took over two years for her to put it together.

"It’s not as good as Gaye thinks it is," thought Fisun, as she exited the art gallery. Fisun is a thoughtful friend. Still, she had to leave the exhibition early because she needs to be in time for her son Ömer’s piano recital.

Fisun thought about Ömer playing Bach and she smiled. She called an Uber. "Of course, Gaye doesn’t have any children so she can waste her time on frivolous things. Like opening an art exhibition. Sad."

Someone who doesn’t know Fisun might think that she’s a hypocrite. However, if this someone has gotten to know enough people, they will know that Fisun’s not a hypocrite. Fisun is all too human. A human who desperately needs to see her son play Bach.

Again, someone who doesn’t know Fisun might wonder why a woman wealthy enough to ride an Uber all the way from Kadıköy to Nişantaşı does not own a car. To be completely honest, those who know Fisun do also wonder why this is the case. After all, she had travelled to Maldives with her husband last fall. They shared lovely photos on Instagram. We’ve all seen them.

Fisun got on Emrah’s Uber. "4.9 stars, very good. Probably he doesn’t talk much."

It’s true that Emrah talks very little because the thoughts in his head are too loud. In fact, he didn’t even hear Fisun greet him!

Emrah and Fisun are on their way. "I’ll be there in 40 minutes," wrote Fisun to her husband on her IPhone. "Don’t be late," wrote back the husband. Fisun got slightly irritated. Only very slightly. After all, the Uber ride, and the Iphone, and the trip to Maldives were all thanks to him.

Emrah and Fisun are crossing the bridge over Bosphorus. "If I eat a quinoa salad for dinner every day, how long will it take me to lose 10 pounds?" Gaye is thinner than Fisun. Quite attractive, too. Although they are the same age, Gaye looks younger than Fisun as well.

"Well, she wouldn’t look like that if she had two kids like I do. Too much stress. The birthday parties, the chess lessons, finding a babysitter… It’s impossible to find a decent babysitter these days! They’re all money-grubbers with no experience whatsoever. Incredible!"

A driver honks the horn. A girl sneezes in the back seat of the white Toyota Corolla riding on the next lane. There must be a tissue around here somewhere, says the girl’s father. A seagull flaps its wings in the air. The wind blows between the metal vehicles on the bridge. Emrah turns the wheel and rides the Uber towards the railing.

The Uber is in the air, Emrah’s Marlboro cigarettes are in the air, Fisun’s Michael Kors handbag is in the air, and the seagulls, too, are in the air.

Ömer’s piano recital will begin in 24 minutes. Fisun’s husband will complain because she’s late. Again. Emrah has 4.9 stars.

"What makes a cab driver special?!" yell the loud thoughts in Emrah’s head.

"Pull yourself together. You are not a cab driver, you’re an Uber driver!"

"What?"

"You’re an Uber driver! You have 4.9 stars."

"Do you mean that my life means something?"

"Your life will be over in 12.3 seconds."

"But does it mean something?"

"It means more than that woman’s. The one at the back seat."

"Who says?"

"I do."

"Who are you?"

Ömer is waiting at the back stage. He’s nervous. A bad taste fills his mouth.

Ömer runs to the bathroom and vomits. 24 minutes later, he will play the first note of one of Bach’s three-part inventions. The first note is a C.

The Uber will float in the air for approximately 10 more seconds. "We’re accelerating," thinks Fisun. "Gravitational pull... 11th grade… High School Physics class... I hated Mr. Orhan so much."

Mr. Orhan retired two years ago. He’s now sipping his tea in Bodrum, by the sea. There, knowledge of Physics doesn’t amount to much.

Between you and me, there are many instances in life where you don’t really need any knowledge of Physics. For example, to understand how lost Emrah feels. His sister Sanem doesn’t know much about Physics, but she understands. She had been worried about Emrah all along.

"Sanem, I’ll be fine. Don’t you worry about me. Have you ever come across an Uber driver with 4.9 stars?"

"No, I haven’t. Only you."

"See, everything’s alright.
... Sanem, do you love me?"

"Come now, what kind of a question is that!
Mom’s calling for dinner. She’s made chickpeas and rice."

"My dad used to stroke my hair when I was little. I think he stopped doing it when I was 8 years old. You’re a big girl now Fisun, he said.

I don’t remember how my dad smelled like. I wish I did."

"I will die today.
But I don’t want to die."

You don’t want to live either, Emrah.

The wheels are about to touch the water. The traffic has stopped on the bridge, the drivers have stepped out of their cars, they are looking down from the railings.

"How sad," they will say. Then they will go home and eat dinner. They will tell others about seeing that Uber that flew off the bridge. Those that listen will say "How sad," and then they’ll forget.

"Why did you do this?" Fisun is about to ask, but can’t finish her sentence. Her son will play Bach in 24 minutes. He will start with a C, play a couple of incorrect notes, but nobody will notice. When it’s all over, Ömer will be proud. His father also.

The car hits the ice cold waters of the Bosphorus with a deafening sound.

Falling into the water from an altitude of 100 plus metres is like smashing into concrete, they’ll say in the evening news.

"When was the last time I washed the car?" thought Emrah, and then his spine shattered into pieces.

Fisun smelled her father’s smell.

The traffic on the bridge resumed.