Twenty-four hours before I left for Istanbul, I was in the grocery store to buy a snack. The first person I saw was a man with a gray shirt. It said: Istanbul.
One day after I returned, I was riding the bus. Right before my stop I thought, as much as I loved Istanbul, I am grateful to be riding public transportation that isn’t crammed full of people. Then I happened to turn around. Behind me was a woman with a t-shirt that read: I Heart Istanbul.
A few days later, I walked down the street, marveling at how empty it was, unlike in Istanbul. As I crossed the street, a man came toward me. He wore a shirt that said: Istanbul.
Notes from the cupcake rescue league 