<< be in love with yr life >> -- i insist

she was a girl of about seven in black leather sandals that wrapped around the ankles.

"'ello," she said -- british accent. she was standing on the step in front of a little hostel, eating from a package of chocolate raisins. i was coming back with muddy shoes from a day of walking in the valleys around goreme.

"do you want some candies?"

i took a step towards her. she was higher up than me, on the steps.

"you can play if you have some candies."

so i had some candies. "what are we going to play?" i asked.

"football."

she gave me one raisin. then she gave me two, then a handful.

"wait," she said. then she went and got a red plasticky ball.

"what's your name?" i said.

"elif."

"skylarl. say it again?"

"elif." she pointed to the sign in front of the hostel. she pointed to a sign on the hostel's wall that said: Elif Star Caves. "see that sign? that means my name."

which was very sweet.

so we started playing soccer on the brick street where horses went (you could tell by the, um, ...).

shortly she went to get sturdier shoes, then she came back. she wore white tights and a pink dress and had her black hair in a long braid. and now she had pink shoes as well. her father, who called her eli, came to play with us.

i feel strange even writing that verb.

but play we did: and when a car full of people staying at the hostel next door arrived, she chased after them and drew them one by one by the hand til there were seven of us playing. and she ordered us around. you stand there! now pass the ball to me! no, my turn! and when the ball got stuck under her dad's car she grabbed a big stick and whacked it (and some of the undercarriage) free.

she definitely liked the attention, like she was used to having hostels named after her. sometimes she would punt the ball and make her father run for it.

when two backpacker girls appeared on the scene walking down the other side of the waterway, she jumped on her bike and headed off to get them to come play too, leaving her father, me, and five american tourists tending the red plastic ball. but it was getting dark then and her dad said it was dinner time and it was time for the others to go too, and time for me to go. it was getting cold. i picked up my backpack and headed home walking down the road where she was riding back.

"i have something for you," i told her, and she stopped and put her feet down.

since burning man last year i have carried with me a little plastic case of business cards, those perforated cards that you can get and run through your laser printer, then tear out to make into individual cards, ten to a sheet. only i used them in my typewriter and wrote out fortunes and used them to tip at playa bars and to give to interesting people i met, such as the girl in the temple who was crying and who caught my eye for reasons that i wish i could go back and change. but anyways i have a few handfuls of these cards left for people here and i figured i would give one to elif, who would keep it forever. right? because i am so sweet and smart and sensitive.

"do you know what this says?" i said. "it says, be in love with yr life. you know what be in love means, right?"

she held the card in her hands and stood straddling her bike. then she held the little typewritten card out and tore it in half, then in half again, and again. then she dumped her bike down and ran over to the waterway and threw the fluttering pieces in.

"you shouldn't litter," i told her.

then she picked her bike back up and pedaled off. "come back tomorrow," she called back to me -- british accent.