Recycling

The Atmosphere

I don't think the notes need to be long, do I? Brief, as brief as I can. For this, for pieces that have been destroyed.

For pounding waves that break in between corals adjacent to the sea. The cold breeze. Breathing that is no longer the same, longing. Silence in a breath of screams without speech.

Grandpa is currently patting my shoulder. “Man, your life is nothing more like a marble that misses the mark.”

I laughed softly. “I don't understand what grandfather meant? But don't tell me about the neighbor's son again.”

My tone was not taut, but my face was deliberately the opposite way. While pointing at the neighbor's child there who was drying his clothes.

Grandpa laughed too. Grandma just silently looked at the two of us who were patting each other's arms. Our conversation is not long, a moment of laughter continued talking again.

Not serious talk, not like when I met a lecturer who invited me to talk about papers and various other things. I thought talking to Grandpa was simple. I feel more comfort and of course maybe all of that there is a different charisma between lecturers and grandfathers.

The radiating charisma and the sense that I felt was clearly like being in the middle of a movie theater chair casually eating popcorn. Watching movies on the big screen happily more freely, without awkward.

“You want to know the marbles that missed that target mean?” Grandpa asked me. With the same face as before, I guessed.

The guess that said it seemed like grandfather would test my abilities again, the answer that was drawn in my mind was the word want. All right, I'll answer it or I'd better not, I don't think it matters.

“It seems unnecessary. Later on about that, Kek.” I answered weakly. With the feeling of not wanting much more.

Grandpa is like an excuse. “Alright, later we will discuss at length.”

And a light pat on my shoulder. In this mind gawk. Length width? Oh, my God, did I not hear it wrong?

I laugh. “Grandfather joking?”

“This is serious, Man.” Grandpa answered short.

I can understand her look and face. Yeah—not wrong, it turns out I didn't hear it wrong, even just asked to make sure.

I think listening to that long explanation is okay. After all, later before that time arrives, maybe I will be steadfast and navigate the state of myself.

First for me there is a lot of time to prepare. The mature preparation. Be prepared to listen to the long explanation later. Sigh a little. Thinking whether to think how long and how wide the wideness of the speech of the grandfather later? Is it possible like a freeway or maybe as wide as the ocean? More horrifying the desert. I don't know, right now I don't want to ask about it.

“Alright, later after that can be arranged when the right time to talk. It's up to grandpa, I'm ready to listen.” I nodded.

Grandpa smile. “So? Don't you think, grandfather won't tell you how wide and how deep the marbles miss the mark. Just the picture. Could be, at length or even vice versa.”

Yeah, that's up to grandpa. In other current circumstances, I was aware and knew very well about the clock that kept turning. A clock that beats from second to second. Changing minutes, everyone knows about it. So, I don't need to describe it in full.

Back then staring at the watch, distracting the grandfather who was still talking here and there. Kulirik for a moment, grandfather seemed to stare understandably at me.

“Oh, yes. Your time seems precious, young man. Leave, you can be late in here for a while. The lecturer you told me about that later can scold you again.” Grandpa started.

Reminds me of a lecturer who to me is a bitch. One mistake for him is like volcanic ash grains that must be removed as soon as possible. If he knew how to educate well, of course the results would be easy to accept. The way he looked at me was different from other students.

That is, I spelled out a glimpse of the lecturer who only knew to scold without staring at the obvious cause and effect I did was it wrong or not? I don't know why I'm thinking back to that time. A time where stacking tasks is stacked with blaring sounds.

Echoes were blaring in the air. Lightning strikes with a sound that makes the hands block the ears. I thought that the lecturer had no job or any family problems that he could easily pass on to an innocent student like me. As good as saying stacking tasks.

As if not familiar then no dear, like a dumped. Not considered in the student line. Quite proud, often called into his room.

My head's atmosphere is hard to find a word. Compose the task sentence that it gives. Like the graffiti I want to throw in the trash can, sucks. The words pitched annoyed I said inwardly when handing the task back to the lecturer. He told me to rework without saying the reason.

Even the lecture that I felt on the line from the discussion. Scolded with vague sentences about my facial expression that was difficult to deal with. Staring at him annoyed, that's the reason why at that time the lecturer was not just silent looking at me, continuously lecturing.

“Out-of-work lecturers.” My laughter came out cynical without me wanting a little head-dissolving. Don't want to remember more because it sucks.

Grandpa looked seriously. “You can't do that, Man. The lecturer had a reason to do so. All that for your good, take the positive side and throw away the negative side.”

I nodded back. “Alright, Cake.”

Pamit permit. Actually it's still a long time, I can spend about an hour more to relax there. Go back to shaking hands, repeating before.

Hand's moving. Down face. Yeah, like in general. Intention in the heart is firmly attached. But oh but like the rhythm of music that stalled.

Grandpa stopped my hand, smilingly saying, “Didn't you already?”

Right too, it was. I stare for a moment. Trying to find an excuse.

“So it's heating, Cake.” Smirks.

Head scratch. The reason was suddenly drawn in my head, formed by accident. Thankfully, I was able to quickly seek refuge behind reason. Grandpa patted my shoulder again. He led me to walk together to the door. Grandma stared while smiling as if happy, tidying up the dishes and leftovers located on the table.

Grandpa and I walked out of the house. Grandpa spoke then. “You know, Man. What is strange in this world?”

When hearing. At first glance it was drawn in my mind a thousand oddities. Much like high-rise and high-rise pies. Like that pillow and what's filling in it.

What's so weird? Including the words I wrote. I think there's a lot of weird stuff in this world. Even some news has covered the broadcast there are animals in the depths of the sea, dark there is not translucent, the whole body even glows like a bulb at night. It can even live there, adapting to its environment.

There is also sometimes an oddity in the sky about the shape of clouds. Frequently change. Natural phenomenon, the perfection that is stared at clearly bounces the word in the mind of the mind. Sometimes a shining sun can be circled in a rainbow. There are many strangenesses. Grandpa asked me.

“Yeah—ada many oddities.” I answered what was inside my head.

Grandfather looked to shrug his shoulders, not answer. The two of us continued walking until we could not feel that this leg was now in the doorway, strangely grandfather still did not speak. The mysteries? I was confused to ask, but stopped.

Just when we were both in the yard, Grandpa was about to talk to me. The car comes with a horn. We automatically stared, grandfather did not talk. The car stopped in front of our house. Parking graceful, car patterned black and it feels like I do not need to mention the brand, later calculated advertising.

Can I guess whose car it is? From what I saw a while ago, that's the black car that belonged to his father Martin Sakiranjana.