You're walking around Istanbul and you come across this building.

It's painted a deep brick red.

The building itself is nothing out of the ordinary, but the sign outside catches your eye.

The Museum of Innocence.

The Museum of Innocence.

You go inside.

The first thing that gets your attention is the wall across from the entrance.

It's fully covered from corner to corner with these tiny little squiggly objects.

And as you get closer, you realize that they're actually cigarette butts, 4,213 cigarette

butts, to be exact.

Each one is pinned to the wall super carefully, like a butterfly under glass.

And they're all arranged in chronological order in big vertical columns, labeled from

1976 to 1984.

All these cigarettes were smoked by the same person, a woman named Fasun.

Notes are taken underneath each cigarette, one day one cigarette and a note with it.

Fasun got the driver's license.

Fasun did this and Fasun did that, those small details in life.

You look around again.

The walls are covered with wooden shadow boxes, and inside each one are these precisely arranged

objects, a small white handbag, a yellow high-heeled shoe, movie posters, an ice cream cone.

All these objects, like the cigarettes, belong to the same woman, Fasun.

You begin to realize this museum is telling a story, a story about Fasun, but also about

...