Before winning “the game”, he nods his head in a victorious way and he looks around with vanity. Then he pulls his arm a little more back than usual and rests his fingers.
Then the room is getting darker, each move turns one light off. Meanwhile The Mechanical Turk is shining in the emptiness that he belongs in. Flowing fabric on his skin is lighting up his breathless body, a small smile is appearıing on the metal button on his cuff very slightly.
Heavy curtains are moving to the center of the room every time a light turns off. It feels like the last scene of a stage.
When the time arrives, curtains are stepping back from Turk’s individuality, lights come back one by one, a small smile disappears again. Probably…
