My story with Coni

When I was a freshman in high school, I determined emigration as my greatest ideal and I didn’t even marry the girl I fell in love with. Then, in my third year as a captain, I retired due to disability due to a report of middle ear calcification, but no country wanted Turks, there were no countries where you could travel without a visa, in the winter of 2004 I bought a pair of canaries, then I mated them, in the spring of 2005, they had a lot of babies, I kept Coni, one of the five babies in the first litter, and sold the others. Coni’s cage was always open, over time he got used to me, we wrote the books together, sometimes he slept, sometimes he shit on my clothes, that’s how we lived. It is known and written that the maximum lifespan of a canary is 7-9 years, when Coni was eight years old I sold my house, I prepared to go abroad, but ours must have drunk a potion, he lived a long time, when he was in his last fifteen months, he had cataracts in both eyes, he went blind, I did not leave the house for exactly fifteen months, I fed him by hand all day, he passed away in my hands on Sunday morning, a month and a half before his sixteenth birthday. I buried him in the place I had previously determined, applied for a passport, bought a plane ticket to Belgrade, Serbia, one of the visa-free countries, for March 30, 2020, I informed the landlord that another tenant could enter as of April 1, 2020, but the coronavirus resurfaced, all flights were canceled, I traveled from city to city after that day. Now I have started translating my works into English, if I can find a publisher for one of them, I will achieve all my goals, I will settle in a modern country, I will write until my last breath.