, yelled, "Eyüphan Bey! You look like a fancy ghost!"
But then, he looked around. He saw the genuine, joyful smiles of his neighbors. He looked at his own reflection in the window of a shop—the messy hair, the startled expression, the absurd chiffon still draped over his shoulder. EyГјphanВ BaЕџД±ndaki Ећifoni Eyvah
Eyüphan, finally pulling the tangled chiffon from his face, felt his cheeks burning hotter than the peppers he was buying. His perfectly styled hair was now a mess. , yelled, "Eyüphan Bey
In the small, bustling town of Kestane, everyone knew . He was a man who lived by routine, priding himself on being organized, calm, and impeccably dressed. His signature look? A light, breezy silk scarf—a şifon —which he wore regardless of the season, considering it the ultimate accessory of sophistication. He looked at his own reflection in the