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SHE




She moved away from an old building in one of the old cities in Indonesia. Yes, she walked away, slowly, but her head tilted up, looking at the sky, such as pleading to the heavens to bring rain, accompanied her solitude. She spoke to the sky, or perhaps the almighty creator of heaven?
She stopped, stood up, pensive for a moment without moving, then she looked back toward the old building. In her hand she carried a camera. Perhaps she will capture a picture of the old
outstanding building, as a memory of her childhood which was quite pleasant, childhood memory with concrete stairs of Dutch colonial. Yet, it was not! This beautiful girl did not come back to take pictures of old buildings, she sat, slept on dried grass which eroded by some small footprints. She lay down on the grass, and looked at the sky, a beautiful moment to capture the movement of the clouds in the evening sky. One photo. Two photos. Ah! She could not stop spoiled with the sky, with nature.


Tik! Tik! Tik! The rhythmic patter of rain fell, even so she did not move out of the fun watching at the sky, enjoy
ing every thrust of rain.
Suddenly she ran, yes ran consciously since she realized there was an un-waterproof camera in her grip.

She ran into the terrace of the old building, where she first learned to dance, Bondan Dance, one type of Javanese dance that was still looming in every part of her body. Then she leaned against a wooden barrier fence. Spruced up her clothes, tidy up her scarf, then looked deep inside, there was a swing that once made her head hit the ground and bruised, her childhood crime scene, made an incision wound of several stitches on his friend's head. Her eyes turned towards slider starting place to learn up and down, up and down again, the circle of life, in 3 years of life. Besides slider, there was a large globe, maybe 3 times her size now. There was where she began to understand the sky, on the highest peak of toy globe, at a height of 5 meters from the ground; she began to admire the sky.

Nostalgia, ah no, it's Most-talgia, looking back on something that has been gone 17 years ago.

Her gaze distracted. Lightning! There is lightning! Instead of fear like feminine girls she was admire, she smiled, enjoyed the rain, from a distance.
Possibly, the rain will remind her of someone, or the cold of rain that reminded her to her views, which, according to some people look
ed shady and exciting. She touched the rain. Yes she was touching the rain, as she spoke to the sky. She could not control her emotions which be torn between rain and waiting.

It was early evening, she did not talk much, her cell phone rang, ah forget it! She would not answer the phone while enjoying her own time, insensitivity takes time to
take a moment, if only for the length of the call. She herself needs to remember her own time; the work drowned her in extraordinary humans whom she called friends. She had many friends, which allowed her to relish the sky and the sand, enjoying the differences. However, she often stole a time to indulge the rain. Her friends often assume that she was weird, and too sweet to be a man, merely they were right, because she is a tough woman who is still chasing a dream in which vitriolic ideas float her head.


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