Short Story (Cerpen)

The bridge did not return

I'll tell you guys. Tell me about a bridge. It is called the Bridge of No Return. Why is it named that way? Because, anyone who crosses that bridge, will not return. Ambushed by the boundary across there. Across the fog. And contains perfection.

And as a bridge, then the Bridge Tak Back is a bridge that is so beautiful. The skeleton is red. His back is golden yellow. While the guardrail on the left-right side seems to always rotate slowly. It was like a clockwork that sounded so smooth. Deg-deg-deg.

But, even if it does not come back, always, almost every time someone crosses the bridge. And the waders are from different circles. Different age, status, or intelligence. And on average, they always show a cheerful face. Expectantly. And surge.

In fact, if you see it, there are always some of them (who cross it) singing. Especially singing about nothing that makes all bad passions extinguish. Replaced with a thousand tiny fluttering bells. The clinking little clapper. Like a clink in line with a mantra. A mantra about a beloved heaven. The heaven that meets again.

And it is heaven that will make them reach a level beyond measure. The level, where, what they were holding would be perfect. And it became something that, according to the news, reached an unspecified point. For example, a smart cook, will be able to cook without a stove. The silat smart one, will flash without moving. And the smart run, will run without knowing the energy.

Hoi, give us the smoothness to cross!

Hoi, also smoothness so as not to get mired!

Hoi, also self-reliance!

Of course, even though they mentioned: Hoi!, but their tone of voice was not a pushy tone. Instead, full of sincerity and humility. It was like a deep, blue sea, how calm was the tone of their voice. And like a towering mountain, how, how, the mountaintop came to the seventh heaven.

The sky on all sides was so wide and expanding. Like no other creature can measure it. Even if it is only in the mind and imagination. A mind and a delusion capable of writing a thousand pages of books. A book that contains all the knowledge ever found and that will be found.

Come on, we're crossing over. See ya soon!

Yup, we crossed over together!

Ready it! Let's leave!

And they (who crossed it) crossed over. And it felt, when their legs were tracing on the back of the bridge, also incarnated a kind of dance steps. The gleaming steps. Go left, go right. Beautiful and charming. Perhaps, if only those steps were on stage, it would certainly be a matching, compact, and thrilling performance.

For those who see it. Those who are on the edges, and those who do not cross, can only wave. While still directing his gaze without blinking. In their hearts, they were full of prayer. Prayer boils down to one hope: Sooner or later, we soon cross over as well. Follow them. To achieve perfection. Just hang.

***

Hmm, that's my story about the Bridge of No Return. A riddle-filled story. Wh why? For I am sure, you will ask: If those who crossed it have reached the other side of the bridge. In a foggy place containing perfection, then what does it do? Are they satisfied? Or is there something else that needs to be told here?

Ahai, good question. The question I will later. And to be honest, it turns out, when they got to the other side, and obtained the perfection that he expected, they did become another. What they see has reached a point of no equal. Unexplained. Everything is just being asked and spoken. Directly available. And can be immediately embraced.

I want to run to the hills! then they went to the hill. Or I want to taste the most delicious cuisine! also available directly. And that makes them happy. And get them to keep saying this - it's different. That's what makes them just stay where they are. Not moving. Because, make what must move, if what is desired is always available in front. Available in a variety of customizable.

As a result, because they did not move slowly, they also became silent. Only their eyes were flickering. Eyes that are so perfect and worthy to be called round, round, and full of tranquility. The eyes that now seem no longer to think about how to hone what they hold.

Fine fibers. The fibers don't know what color it is. But it's so sparkling. And so illuminate the place where they are. And so brightly, anything that glittered around them was visible. Whether it's flying, creeping, rolling, or just simply being glued motionless. Everything looks. And everything seems so happy just to be seen.

***

Akh, I'm not crossing over!

Aye?

Ja. If the end is just like that, keep doing what.

Yes, yes, that was Jose's word this morning. Words that may be the umpteenth time. And indeed you need to know, Jose is the only person who often cancels his intentions when going to cross the bridge.

In fact, if I could tell you, everything in Jose is already qualified. And it is worth achieving perfection. Others, perhaps, only Jose has been encouraged by everyone to cross immediately.

But who will feed my cats? sergeant Jose.

A cat? Gosh, this is the reason for long ago that prevented Jose from crossing. Reasons to feed the cats. And now, Jose's cats are no longer five or six. But maybe almost fifty. And every morning, afternoon, and evening he always fed.

My cats need decent food? so added Jose, Because my cats almost every night watching the rats. Rats that like to damage everything in the village. And you know also, those destructive rats, are getting more and more. Pinguid. And ngawur-ngawur. In fact, so unfortunate, in broad daylight also dare to damage as well. As if there was nothing more to fear.

So, when are you going to be perfect? ask someone.

Well, let's not be perfect. As long as my cats can still take care of me.

And as it has been, Jose also left the edge of the Tak Kembali Bridge again. Everyone looked at him. Everyone is gawking. And like the warriors of the anti-fighting world, the cats were twisting. The cute cats. The cats are agile. And the cats that make people who see it so anxious.

How not to be anxious, the cats that often bother them while eating. Or go to sleep. Because his behavior and voice are so loud and deaf. Especially if it has entered the breeding season. Ck ck ck kampung was as if transformed into a noisy symphony stage. The symphony that often makes the tinkering shifts.

Jose, Jose, yeah, that's the name of the guy who didn't want to cross the Tak Back Bridge. Bridge to perfection. Just because I don't want to leave the cats. And because of his unwillingness, many people in the village talked about it. Some are proud. There's something funny. And there are also those who secretly refer to Jose as the weirdo.

A freak who would rather feed his cats than pursue perfection in life. And those who secretly refer to Jose as this freak, the longer, the more. And so they began to outline. That is, how to make Jose cats can be reduced.

Start stealing Jose's cats. The yellow. The chocolate. Black ones. The white. And the gray one was stolen. They were put in sacks and thrown out of the village. Until finally, Jose's cats run out. And Jose was too confused. And Jose was sad. Every time, every time, it works just looking for the missing cats.

And between this sadness and seeking, those who had stolen the cats, said to Jose: Jose, believe me, your cats have crossed the Bridge of No Return. Crossing in secret. But strangely, since these words were thrown, since then the figure of the Bridge of No Return also disappeared. Unsuspected. Like being swallowed up by a mysterious.

And the rats, which now no longer have that barrier, were soon rampant in the surrounding village