Finn woke up to the pale morning light. He saw his forgotten bike by the window; he brushed off the dust on the seat and smelled the rust in the air. He fixed the chain in place and pedaled. The bike creaked as it joined the street.
While riding on the narrow sidewalks, he had to brake suddenly to avoid hitting a little girl at a corner. She fell to the ground, and her mother shouted angrily. Finn’s face turned red, and he mumbled an apology as he left. Days later, he learned that during the girl’s hospital checkup, another illness had been caught early. A small fall had changed a whole life.
Another day, as he rode past the park, the wind flipped a woman’s umbrella. Finn quickly acted and helped her hold it. She smiled with a short but warm look of thanks and, at that moment, met another man nearby. Finn’s small action may have shaped her future without him even knowing. He pedaled on, thinking about the weight of such small coincidences.
Then he thought to himself: “My presence changes the path of others. Maybe they don’t see it, but I do.”
On a rainy evening, Finn stopped at a small street corner. He was listening to Köprüaltı on his headphones. He leaned his bike against the wall, clenched his fists, and to the rhythm of the falling drops, whispered to himself: “I am God.” The song mixed with his thoughts, and he felt the weight of his power and influence again.
The words spilled from his throat, and he really felt it.
When the rain stopped, he continued riding. On the bridge road, he bumped into an old man leaning on his cane. The cane fell into the water. Finn apologized, but the man started walking without it, and they were both surprised. It seemed the man realized that what he had thought was a disability was only a habit.
Finn’s mind was a mess. The little girl, the woman, the old man… they had all crossed paths with him. The words “I am God” still echoed in his ears.
When he got home, he opened his notebook and found a movie ticket he had never bought. The date was today, and the time was exact. He held the ticket in his hand and looked out the window at the sky. Watching the stars, he felt as if someone else was controlling his actions. He realized that maybe his life had already been directed by other hands. He was just a puppet, and as long as he pedaled, other hands were playing the game.
The creak of his bike echoed in his ears; this time it was not the sound of freedom, but like the laughter of an invisible audience.