About the Heart

Night Snoring

Once everything was ready, then I started typing the story summary in the detail column. I made with a series of sentences quite interesting, not too long and also not too short. The opening of the story starts with a little introduction to the characters. Continued conflict that occurred and ended by a question sentence about how the end of their story.

My smile is so etched that one step away I will start typing chapter 1. Prologs, so usually novelists write. But I chose to tell a story peppered with a bit of a puzzle to let the readers wonder what the next chapter would be.

Stories that have been neatly arranged in the brain, smoothly flowing up to one by one words connect into sentences and form a paragraph. Dialogues converge and slowly suffice hundreds and finally a thousand more words into one perfect chapter.

I returned carefully. Do not let there be typos, awkward sentences and even wrong punctuation. KBBI and research from Mbah Gugel I made guidelines in order to present writing that is at least worth reading even though it is far from perfect. I am a beginner, but I do not want to be original in my work.

After the checking is complete, I set the time and immediately send the script. Waiting for the review process, stretch the muscle that was tense earlier. It took me almost two hours to make one chapter. Tired and draining of the mind. But I am satisfied and happy.

"How, Honey?" ask Dion who just came out of the room. Her body looks fresh I'm sure if she just finished a shower. I want to taste it. Oops! The snack she brought, I mean. Oh, don't miss it, yeah!

"Wait for a review, Mas," I replied while reaching for something that was in there. Round, long and chewy-washy amused. Ah .. apparently the contents of the jar that Dion brought was jumbo sausage ready to eat. I chuckled to myself, imagining the readers already hot cold but it turned out Aldekha Depe was just checking the level of intimacy.

Dion nodded with a happy smile. "Hopefully best seller, dear."

"Aamiinu. My intentions are just a hobby, honey. But if Mas Ridho and Allah worship, may be blessed."

I hugged my handsome husband. A kiss he presented as a form of affection. "Mas, swinging, yuk! I miss the atmosphere of Jogja," invite me even though the time has shown at nine o'clock in the evening.

"Wind of night is not good for pregnant women, dear. If the wind gets bothered. You can't take medicine or get scraped," Dion said, stroking the hair I had divorced.

"Cat's rice" I said softly in her ear.

"Delivery order, huh?" bargain Dion, who refused to take me out at night, was reluctant to let me stay alone.

"The one who bought it. But both are the same Mr. Aryan. Boncas ride on the motor."

Dion protested because he had to duet with Si Abang. But the annoyed face I put up finally managed to make him say yes. I'm going to move, but I hold on. My request is not finished until there. There are still channels I haven't spoken about.

"You want to buy something else?" bargain Dion who thought if I added a deposit when in fact it is not.

I turned my head twice, left and right. "You wear a full suit and continue to wear black velvet."

Dion gasped at my request. "Ribet is very, very, very. I'm going straight away."

"I want it to be," I grumbled. Immediately I got up from my seat and chose a way out of the apartment. Dion followed me while calling me. My move was a little hasty, making Dion able to pursue after I had stood in front of the door of Pak Aryan's apartment and had once pushed the bell.

As soon as the door opened, I went straight into the room where we used to relax. Sit leaning back while folding your hands on your chest. A few seconds later, Dion came followed by Mr. Aryan. They were sitting on a long sofa located across the table.

Mr. Aryan sighed deeply. Take two bottles of mineral water that are always available at his desk. Share it one by one, for me and for the man beside her. "Drink, first!"

Mr. Aryan's orders are already one second late. The thirst quench I gulped before he told me to. "Bang, buy me some cat rice, dong!"

"Whose husband? Why did I buy it?" reject Mr. Aryan by throwing a question.

"He doesn't want to" I reported, asking Mr. Aryan to buy it again.

"Why not?" Mr. Aryan kept chasing answers.

Dion and I were quiet. Waiting who will explain first. Actually I don't want to spar in front of Mr. Aryan. But suddenly anger came. Shake from the depths of feeling without my control. Even if I think about it again, my request is excessive and far-fetched. Unfortunately, it all seems to come out on its own.

"All right, I'll buy it. But don't blame your wife for a long time this will turn to me!" threaten Mr. Aryan while grabbing the car keys on the desk.

"We bought both." Dion has been holding back Mr. Aryan. He then approached me and woke me up from a sitting position. Take a ride back to the apartment.

"Don't be angry, honey! Wait, I'll buy you some cat rice."

Dion rushed to the room and immediately passed me with a smile. Dressed officially as if to say the ijab qabul, he set out to grant my request which he had refused.

🍚🐈🍚🐈🍚🐈

Dion PoV's

Bathing on a motorbike butut wearing a neat suit at night is the worst silliness I have ever done. The incomparable looks and vehicles made us like a pair of brides from the forbidden class.

"Say you brother" I reminded him of the status he always asked for.

"Your son-in-law is smart! Know you have an uncle of understanding," replied Aryan proud.

"Well, don't grumble!"

Our journey stopped when we arrived at the crowded angkringan owned by Mas Joss. This is the most moncerous lesehan hangout I often go to with Rendra. The owner is native to Gudeg City, so the taste of the food can really treat longing with the land of birth. In addition, traditional music offerings that present Javanese songs typical of young people make the atmosphere more similar in Jogja.

Denny Caknan songs such as Prolimanjoyo, Sugeng Dalu, Los dol, Kartonyono Medot Janji and Sampek Tuwek always pamper the ears of visitors who are dominated by millennials. The composition of the song belonging to the late Didi Kempot was no less in demand to be sung. Cidro, Pamer Bojo and Banyu Sky is a song that will always bring the enthusiasm of visitors. Not infrequently the atmosphere is like a concert because they all sing the song performed by the singer.

"The more I fall in love with Jogja if this is the case," said Aryan who was so fun to enjoy fried food while listening to the song Paner Bojo.

"Originally not more in love with his wife prince bucin from Jogja, aja."

"Rosa, you mean?" timpal Aryan quickly understood the direction of my innuendo.

"Here, the message!" said Mas angkringan guard who stopped my conversation and Aryan.

I quickly paid and left this place. I have long been ashamed because from the moment we came to be the center of attention. Not because of good looks, but because we were the wrong costume to visit here. Other visitors were dressed casually, T-shirts and shorts. We are like brides willing ijab qobul to come alone.

"If it wasn't for Rosa cravings, I wouldn't want to be kayak gini" I said, noting the clothes I was wearing.

Aryan saw what he was wearing. "I'm ordinary, aja. He asked me not to crave even willing me like this," Aryan timpal relaxed.

This one guy is always willing to make my Rosa happy. But strangely, my jealousy is not so if it's him. It may not be normal, but that is the reality. And also, it looks like my baby candidate is asking to be tapped with his future uncle.

The motorbike I drove had arrived at the apartment parking lot. Without waiting for time to pass longer, I immediately handed over the cat rice I brought to the lover. My wife looks happy as if getting abundant blessings.

"Wait, first!"

That sentence made me think negatively. The address will be something unpleasant we have to do.

"Mas, Bang, eat the cat's rice!"

Aryan and I looked at each other. We thought that rice would be eaten with gourmand. Why should we spend. It's called prank. If you know we have to eat, it is better to eat on the spot while listening to easy listening Javanese pop songs.

Your eyes that stare fixed, finally make us resigned. Take the small package and open it. As we were about to make a bribe, once again our steps were stopped. Rough breaths are accidentally wasted at the same time.

"Bribery!"

Again the request was shocking. Tingling sensation. How could men feed each other? What does the world say? We shudder in disgust.

"Papa and Uncle, must love each other."

I'm getting sultry. This is not a cravings but an act of revenge. "I'm bribing you, baby."

"I want to see you guys bribe!"

Chortled.

Feeling no use to argue, we were forced to obey. Be romantic with others. It feels sliced heart, normal in the words of one so ban*i.

"His eyes look at each other!"

I don't know why we followed the order without refuting. Eyes are in a straight line. It was clearly drawn in the pupil how we combined gazes.

"What a good pose."

Instantly look together. I found your smile growing with a smart thing that just captured the naughty moment you forced. I immediately got up to pick up the thing in your hand, erasing the terrible memories.

"Sent."

A social media post with an image you just took becomes a new status. I let out a tired breath. Yes, the behavior of pregnant women is never wrong. It is forbidden to be angry, followed by increasingly making a bitch. Be patient! Men are missing spurs when this is the case. Non-polytic.