Spin

Last week I was walking home from work, about two in the afternoon, tired and looking for a couple hours kip before going back for the evening shift.

I came out of the Metro station and made my way towards Istaklal but there was a crowd blocking my way - all looking towards the Ataturk statue.

Maybe it was some sort of homage to the great leader, so I joined the gawkers. There were police and a number of camera crews.

All were looking at a bloke in his late forties maybe, standing at the base of the monument, holding what looked like a 9mm hand gun to his head.

I stopped and stared for a while, transfixed - not something you see everyday. I was riveted with some sort of weird primeval desire to see what would happen next - the possibility of a kill. there might have been three or four hundred people watching; who knows how many at home.

After thinking for a few minutes - there was one of two options: he pulled the trigger, spraying his brains like an over-ripe watermelon; or the cops shoot him.

I felt sick and turned away, to disappear into the crowd, listening for the bang. Soon however, the possibility of hearing it was drowned in the throng of the metropolis.

There was nothing in the news that I saw.