NOSTALGIA

Kutundukkan kepala, mendesah beribu kali menandingi sepoi angin yang berlalu-lalang. Seharusnya aku berucap syukur, bukannya mengobar hati dengan segala rindu yang selalu menusuk-nusuk kepalaku.

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HE IS COMING

Again, I felt the same pulse.

It thumped me up, right on my chest, stronger than before, as if a throng of timpanists clashed the drums and create a battle among themselves. I always ignored it until the beat of ordinary turned to be frenetic, perpetual sound. Restless, unease, they shrouded me in anxiety. Something’s missing in me since the dreadful ordeal took them away, both who I loved―mom and dad. Something dark; something hollow; which began to harass inside my head and distracted my consciousness. And I haven’t figured it out. Not yet.

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FOURMILIÈRE

Grey, white, or similar color with dark paint as concrete; perpetual building constructions—high and plush-up to the sky; four-and-two-wheels machines lining up on the road; smokes of pollution and cigar jumbled together to spike each hearts; and no green, no trees.

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