Abstractal Nature: Diaries

Sundays

Dawn was still not visible, but Jihan had already hung her moist pajamas, her last clothesline, on the grounds of the house. Then he put the bucket near the washing machine and pulled the cable. While entering the house Jihan continued to rub his head with a towel.

Jihan went up to the attic but in the middle of the stairs stopped because Mamah called. He went back down and put a towel on the ladder fence. Jihan asked for help.

"What Mah?" jihan asked under the stairs, in front of the bathroom.

"Here, help Mamah lift the barrel into the kitchen. I forgot it, I didn't fill the afternoon."

"We haven't been turned over yet, too, Mah?"

"You ah."

"Hhhhhh.."

Two women immediately hauled a large bucket outside the "warehouse". They took him slowly for fear of being scattered. Fortunately the kitchen is next to the bathroom, a minute and then the barrel arrived at the destination.

Jihan hangs her towel on the balcony of the room. He did not use a hairdryer every time he took a shower, either maybe he chose to get wind. Jihan went back to her room.

This morning Jihan played again to the Panti. Who else would he meet if not Marcel. But once arrived at the destination, the occupant of the room continued to pat on the edge of the mattress in a cloth mukena.

Jehan scratched the soles of Marcel's feet perched on the bed, his sleeping style is indeed a bit of a thug and porters. Marcel soon opened his eyes, though still half conscious, and he asked. Jihan asks him to get up, as well as the answer to Marcel's question.

Morning run, the start must be stealth ninja style. This is because the Panti is separated from the basetime, so Jihan has to pass the wormhole again to turn back time.

At the edge of the market crowd, just behind the garage of the garbage truck, Jihan and Marcel were ducking down the street. There was no one to visit him anymore, no one else came to trash.

After the left lyric right in the location, Marcel took Jihan out of the wormhole perimeter.

"Gue was willing to go in there, Beb. As long as you throw it away," said Jihan commenting on the trash that she kept looking at. "Ow..!"

After gripping Jihan's arm, Marcel put his two hands in the sweater pocket. He immediately stepped up while observing the people, no matter who was taking him to this always on place.

The jihan he left behind was still spoiled over the blisters that were left in his hands.

"Where are we?" ask Jihan. "No hei if the stall of slavery. Mending you take me to the slaughterhouse."

"Not really?" ask Marcel, relax and calm.

"So, seriously. That's where the khan cut the goose duck into the cauldron."

"Hhh-hh! Rieut ah talk jeung maneh mah."

"Yes, I don't want to answer. It's at the market, Beb. Bener khan Mang?"

Jihan SKSD on the father who was moving the trading basket, even while patting his shoulders.

"Oh, sayurna Neng? A bade? Soklah."

"Enya. Kin his uwihna, Mang. Bade nganter heula tencang."

- Yes. Ntar went home, Mang. Want anter friend first

"Wadul Mang's. Sok pohoan si ieu mah."

- Lying Mang. I like to forget this

"Okay, alhamdulillah or invited to chat me nu gareulis geuning."

Jihan and Marcel are hunting far away because the pedestrian queue is already quite smooth there.

At a stall, Marcel kissed the hand of the wholesale owner, a middle-aged woman, looking young, in her 40s. Jihan followed him, greeting the mother.

"Har ari maneh kadieu deui? Jeung saha ieu tea?" ask the store owner when Jihan is being treated.

"Temen Mah's. Nutritional."

"Ohh. Boga lakon oge, Cells?"

"So, he's a shabby Mah" said Marcel.

"Oohs. Sugan tea sarua gf."

"Gizian. Field focus, Mamah. Fo. kus field," spell Marcel.

"Meuni herang kieu, Cell. Skem kids ieu tea?"

- very clear like this, Cells

"Sos.camp, Maaah. Sos-kemp."

"Huh-uh. Icing heula, uh. Kadie kadieu Neng. Pipilueun wae colot, ah. Kadie Neng's. Kadieu Giziania, dina yuh."

The smiley jehan discussed mother-daughter. After moving to a somewhat shady place, a little later the questions and answers take place between the two. Jihan nodded, because it turned out that the mother knew a place other than Panti even though the outline alone was like basetime, timeline, and jeans.

Marcel immediately fell on the carpet. In the market, he only took the key and armed himself with snacks. This middle room is quite relieved Jihan found.

"Now, Brother Irma, huh, Beb?"

"Yes. He used to be familiar with Hera, not that I ade him, but I'm seeing the enemy. I have ritual. Find a place if I meditate."

"Women too?"

"Yes. The hanmarket's on my school deck."

"Hera and Irma are you? Trus lo got mocked?"

"Say baby, heck."

"Well the incident also khan finally, you wander and become a blueprint?"

"Yes, it's fate."

Krauuch! Krauuch..

Marcel sat leaning back while chewing his snacks. As usual, sit down as a thug. Jihan looked at "situ" for a while, then stepped back into the next picture frame, staring at the frame attached as it split and was rather large.

"Lo smunti alumni, Beb? Don't you know your face anyway? Yes, a photo of yesterday."

Marcel. Krauuch! Krauk..!

"Lo durable gini. It's weird."

"Take a shot here" said Marcel, putting down the food, cleaning his hands and then cross-legged as he sipped a drink. "Bring here, Han."

"Shortly," Jihan said as she tilted to grab her frame. "There I ain't ya, definitely next to lo's my old body, Beb."

Marcel remained silent, sitting staring at Jihan's back, waiting with a very confused face. Bends wobbling. "Hhh-hh! Here I say, pegel know there mah. Bring it here, dear."

After sitting next to each other looking at the photo, Marcel recounted two schoolgirls accompanying him in the row. The one on the left is married. While the other student, the right companion is his close friend who is also an astraler.

"Huh? Is this our guy too? Is there any khan, at the Panti? What's up.."

"Lusi nih tajir, has a lab under his helmet. Help me to war."

Jihan did not speak, looking at Marcel seriously and enthusiastically. Seemed to be wondering, but Marcel's lips were being looked at. "Continue?"

"Hhh.." Marcel looked at the door of the house, daydreaming and laughing at his memory.

"Cell..?"

As Jihan brushed Marcel's cheek, the hermit turned his head. The flat bolt there was still daydreaming, Marcel had not yet uttered a word. There were memories in his eyes ready to answer.

"Lusi khan, her name? He's got a robot?"

"Oh yes," greeted Marcel, making Jihan exhale a sigh of relief. " Yes, Han. He's driving a snail."

"Hhh.. You like to go far. Worryingly. I don't know if I'm interested in talking. Duh.. How's dong?"

"What time?" ask Marcel, no less serious.

"Yes, Cell. Sorry if I'm weird, right?"

"Hadeeh, baby. I have a lot of violence. Not my mother, anyway. This guy is mah. Susi tuh.. Lesbians. I think we're."

"Hhhhhh.."

"He's in sono (Replace)."

"Kiraen."

"You want to go to him?"

"You.. Hhh-hh! What's the?"

"Yes you."

Jihan shifted her seat, her hands immediately coiled around Marcel's stomach while screwing the friend's shoulder. She is so happy. Jihan is thrilled that Marcel has changed his name.

Marcel was met with red, observed the frame of a schoolmate, the students of one class with their heads tilted, screwing Jihan's head.

I don't know if it's suddenly quiet. The movements of the body and head inhabit a more comfortable position. The two were busy tracing the faces in the A3 frame.

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