Miss To Move Diary

For Master Fav...

Thanks for stopping by Yevn's graffiti.

There are still many mistakes in this writing. 🙏🙏

Here Yevn shares only a few of Yevn's personal stories. There is a comment that Yevn read if this is more like reading a diary, that's right. 👍✌

For those who have stopped by and already commented, follow Yevn. Look forward to 'yevn's love letter' on your pc. The mystery gift still exists.... 😄😄

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"Hallo, assalamu'alaikum, sir."

Greet the man across the phone. He is my High School Teacher.

"Yevn, are you home from college?" Ask Mr. Amrisal.

"Sir, this is again at home, ready to go to the event location."

My answer.

"Mr ask for help, buy rice for lunch. There are some people who have not eaten. Can't you?"

Mr. Amrisal.

"Oh, can you sir, how many servings?" Ask me again.

"Three, or four. Sorry to bother."

"OKAY. No problem sir." My answer.

Then my call closed.

Amrisal and I are very close. He was also very close to my family.

Incidentally, this year's Musabaqah Tilawatil Quran event was held in my place.

The location of the event was also not far from my parents' house. It only takes ten or fifteen minutes of motorization.

Yes, because there was a call to mc, and the location of the event was not far from my parents' house, then I decided to go home.

"Ma, Yevn left first. Looking for lunch for Mr. Amrisal." I said goodbye to Mom.

"Well, haven't eaten yet? Tell me to eat here." Mama said.

"Ga just Mr. Am ma, there are some friends, maybe his friend is embarrassed to come here, after all work at the location has not been run. Yevn has gone, assalamu'alaikum"

"Wa'alaikumsalam, the heart of the heart." Reply mama.

Arriving at the food stall, I passed by a group in uniform, heading towards the car parked in front of him.

"Anastas." A voice of a man called my name.

I looked at the origin of the voice.

"Eh, Mr. Safri. kaifahaluk?" Sapaku, to the man I know.

"Bikhoir, alhamdulillah. Want to eat here?"

Ask Safri.

"Oh, no sir, this is Mr. Amrisal for help buying it, take it there."

I answered frankly, as is.

"Ok, brother first." Said Mr. Safri say goodbye.

Here, is there something strange about the readers? 😅😅

Safri and I knew each other before I became a student.

I often met him on shows where I was asked to be a host.

At that time sometimes he was one of his role models, or just covering the news.

Yes, in addition to working as a lecturer Pak Safri also works as a journalist.

I was in High School, and I didn't know what it was. Formalutas in work also I do not understand enough.

So I casually called him with the word 'branch'. 😅😅

So at the beginning of college, I like to change his calling, sometimes father and sometimes brother.

Different from now. Now I have called him with a good call. It's just that he still can't.

He still often calls himself a 'branch' when he talks to me. 😅😅😂😂

Back to the initial story. 🙏

Upon entering the food stall, it was already over.

There is no other place I can go. Because I asked in a few places.

'Just ask my mom, maybe,,,,, ' I murmured.

Without thinking, I headed for my bike. And then gas.

In front of the car looks relaxed. I'm a shortcut ah. . . .

And......

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