Love of Fire, Killing the Whirling Dervishes (DEFECTIVE)

First there was light, which no one noticed as it floated in the void. It was the light of the pomegranate, but the love of fire. Then it touched the skin, it became a pomegranate.

The fire of love enveloped the entire soul. Someone blew NElif into Vav. Pomegranate and light.

“Be my Shams,” said the other one. The pomegranate became light. A mysterious whirling dervish murder committed in Konya prompts the police to take action. This murder, committed in the misty streets of Konya, just before Şeb-i Arus, is not the first and will not be the last. A superintendent and a curious journalist are after the events... Showdowns with the past in the midst of this tension... And LOVE... A love that will touch the fire, the skin and the skin. After a few spins, his left foot was off the nail and he was bleeding again. He stopped, got off the board and sat on both knees again. He took out his coin and kissed the wood again. He raised his head and looked at the Destarli Shadow standing in the darkness. However, no one had known love

All the blame is on the board, No one is salt to my bleeding wounds, No one is where they should be, and no one knows. However, the fire is very close.