000 / 010List of Works

001Waiting by the Poster
Big drama on the wall.
Small person underneath, looking at a phone.
Popcorn machine hums. Light is warm.
He’s not watching the poster. He’s waiting for someone.
Whoever’s coming is better than any movie.

002
Reading light
It’s past midnight —
the city quiet,
the lamp warm,
the world inside the book still wide awake.

003Chatting on the sofa
We talked until the books slipped from our hands,
until the window turned from blue to black.
The coffee table was covered with half-open pages —
but we didn't need them.

Some words are meant to be said out loud,
not read.

You were here.
The stories on paper could wait.

004Foggy Window
Rain blurs the glass. Two people sit on the windowsill.
Each with a book. Each in their own world.
But not really.
Because every few pages, someone looks up. The other feels it. A small smile. Then back to the words.
Rain keeps falling. Pages keep turning.

005You sleep first
You were still holding the controller when your eyes closed.
I watched the screen flicker across your face for a minute.
Then I turned the volume down.
Pulled the blanket up—halfway, so you wouldn't wake.
I'll finish this level for you.

006The ones who carry
From the movers’ view,
a home isn’t just rooms and furniture—
it’s the echo of lives passing through.

No sentiment,
just the calm of someone
who has witnessed
hundreds of beginnings and endings
and learned
to carry them quietly.

007A New place
You stood still, looking down at the phone.
The street names were unfamiliar, but the trees, the smell at the corner, the evening light, felt like something you'd seen before.
But you knew this feeling 'strange and familiar at the same time' would come again.

008Waited All Autumn for This
Autumn was almost over when we finally met.
You were in a thick coat, scarf wrapped up to your chin.
I saw you from across the street.
Our breath hung in the cold air for a second — then disappeared.
You walked over, pulled your scarf down, and smiled.
“Did you wait long?”
I said, “No. Just autumn.”

009
A Game in the Shade
Two old men. One chessboard.
Beneath the tree where shade sits thickest, a game is played slowly.
Onlookers lean in — some with fans, some with tea. No one rushes.
A piece moves. A soft click against the board.
That sound is the only thing that passes.
Summer slows down. Takes its time. One move at a time.

010
Fragment keeperInside a hall that stretches beyond sight,
they move between shelves of light.
Not paper, not files —
but trembling memory bubbles
drifting like tiny planets.

Some glow like dawn,
some crackle like storms.
And yet, with steady hands,
they sort the chaos gently,
building a quiet archive of
who they have been,
who they can still become.

Kadirya Mamattursun

Klohe:) , 2026

© Klohe:)