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 on the chest harder than ever, as if a swarm of timpanists were clashing the drums and fighting between themselves. I still ignored it until the ordinary beat became a frenetic, perpetual rhythm.

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Fourmilière

Grey, white, or a similar color with dark paint as concrete; permanent building constructions—high and plush-up to the sky; four-and-two-wheeled machines lined up on the road; pollution and cigar smoke jumbled together to spike each heart; and no green, no trees.

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