Silhouetted

1.3 Every Quarter Random Beat: Raya, Anjeli, Me, and Violin

RAYA

He's male. Even if it is twenty. Should age define a person as male? He is also an only child. But his father was left with nothing because his father died when he was a child.

At that time he did not understand very much. Maybe she understood, but even then because she saw her mother crying, her uncle squeezing her shoulders from behind, and her aunt sobbing. Maybe from there he understood a little. Only death could make her mother cry like that. Only a loss could make her aunt sob and only fortitude her uncle put in such a squeeze.

ANJELIC

The day is never too early to understand. The opening is never too easy to get through. So too with him. Now he sat down with a very dull feeling.

“Who am I?” His mind in the mirror. His face was clean and bright. And he looked at her every moment. She rarely wears cosmetics. For her cosmetics are only for those who feel themselves ugly. And isn't he ugly? The feeling was obtained from the injection of his mother's sentence every day.

“Anjeli, you are an angel as well as an angel.”

He believed that. And her world is a woman's world. Meeting up at all times only with his mother without much male intervention makes him not understand what a man is. The only men he knew were those who went to eat at the cafe. What he serves is limited to delivering food and drinks while taking payment.

He had never found anyone more patient than his mother. Patience, like anger, is a choice. When there is one incident, we are welcome to choose. Patience is a choice. But there are some people who make patience a provision. Anjeli could never understand why that was so. Patience is something to be fought for. Not everyone understands the meaning of patience. Sometimes patience is synonymous with submission. But that is very different.

Talking about patience, Anjeli is still convinced that patience is his mother, and his mother is patience itself. So Anjeli must accept and surrender the derivative of that nature in his blood. Even if he feels patience is not his. But he (as his mother often told him) was an angel. Every day his hair is pulled over and his mother says it. Every day being checked made him invulnerable and began to feel himself an angel.

Then about angels. A creature that is often depicted as white-winged and male? Why men too? How many of us see female angels in comic books? Anjeli could hardly believe there were female angels. But his mother believed. It is evident that he often said Anjeli was like an angel to him. Just as often as when saying she is an angel.

An angel in the cafe? Angels in the kitchen? Sometimes Anjeli laughs to himself. To him he is nobody. Graduating SMIP and then studying in tourism with a specialty kitchen staff does not mean making you an angel in the kitchen there. It doesn't automatically allow you to make food like angels do.

But the one who spoke was his mother. Her mother couldn't be trusted. Because as his mother often said, only women can be trusted, while men cannot.

Or rather, do not....