Short Story (Cerpen)
My love's stuck in Kresek's bag
Category: Love Story
Title: My Love Stuck in a Crete bag
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The wind swirled around the object, the droplets of raindrops one by one fell from what we call a crackle bag which is actually a black plastic bag. The object occasionally waved a small wave, stuck in a wooden first-floor roof since 3 years ago.
A girl seemed to be watching that thing. Meaningless things that give him a memory. Memories that can only be remembered.
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There was a noise coming from the second floor. Several girls in blue white uniforms seemed to be smiling gleefully and occasionally peering down to the ground floor. The pubescent girls yelled at one of her friends, a hooded girl with a sweet face. Pointing down when he saw a man who turned out to be their upperclassman.
'Rizka, that's Angga's sister!' the girls were screaming hysterically. Look at the man accompanied by a man on the first floor.
An event that would become a memory was finally made. I don't know where it came from, a rope slid off the second floor, no doubt it was the work of the girls who just graduated Elementary six months ago. Cheerful expressions radiated from the girls. Playing around with the upperclassmen who were 2 years older than them, it felt strange yet pleasant.
The tug-of-war finally began, as did Mary who sent bread to Fahri with a rope in the film Verses of Love. A black plastic bag is tied to the end of the rope, as if it were a substitute for a woven basket in this story.
The girls were waiting for anything to be delivered from downstairs. Every now and then they ran to another corner on the second floor to see someone below. Middle smiling amusedly looking at his underclassmen even his own behavior. One of the boy's friends was carrying a plastic flower that probably belonged to a small vase decorating the teacher's desk. Nudging the man, he urged him to send a plastic rose to his class sister waiting on the second floor. Several times this tug-of-war happened, so unexpectedly the black plastic bag called crackle was stuck on the roof of the first floor. The girls tried to forcefully pull it, until all that was left was a string without the bag of cart replacement crackles.
The plastic bag was finally caught. Being a silent witness there has been an interesting story in a love monkey. The rise of the love of a blue white teenager involving friends and those closest to him. A funny story that won't happen. In the end, it is only to be remembered.
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Rain flushed since noon, now only drizzle it that feels sad. A girl was standing in front of a class where a black object was still swinging slowly due to the whirring of the wind. Still pay attention to the black crackle bags that still survive despite the rain and blistering all year. The bag still survives, but not with his feelings now.
The girl in a white-gray uniform. One level higher than his previous position as a Junior High. The guy who used to play with her. Now it feels like a stranger who needs to get acquainted when he meets again. Just look at each other when you cross paths. Ordinary view without meaning. His story means nothing at all. The girl realized, in the 86400 seconds that the man took every day, he never left 2 seconds just to spell his name. The girl's name. Rizkah.
