THE LAST LOVE PIER

THE LAST LOVE PIER

A gentle breeze wiggled the twigs of rambutan trees laden with flowers, the coconut palms twitched together to make a crackle, the swallow flying in the air spread its wings, and the kite spread its wings, sometimes turning right and left or swooping down, some butterflies are busy moving from one flower to another sucking honey.

Very bright afternoon, the air was cool, last night it rained very heavily accompanied by strong winds and lightning and lightning that struck. Some residents' zinc roofs are flying carried by the wind, even some trees uprooted.

Smelling as fragrant as jasmine flowers that whiten like cotton and red roses are beautifully smelled from the yard of the house out everywhere.

The kids were playing football, screaming, cursing, falling awake.

Girls are playing with rope and cooking, a lot of it.

Haris watched from the porch of the house, he remembered when he was the age of the children, after school immediately played, did not remember the time, until dark, there was a sound of azan magrib.

Play is a job that is very liked by children, can forget everything, forget to learn, forget to change clothes, forget to shower, even forget to eat.

Still imagined in his eyes when he was dragged by his mother because he was still playing even though the day had magrib then his butt was spanked with rattan, very sick.

Those childhood memories had long been buried deeply inedible by time.

Since his father died a lot has changed, his large five-bedroom house was deserted, no more brother of his father who stayed overnight, if only a short visit and then returned home.

During his life Haris' father was an elder, every problem in the family would be solved in their home.

The large house built by his father was not enough to accommodate all family members who came to stay overnight, some were forced to sleep in the living room by rolling out mats.

Now that the elder has moved into the hands of his uncle, their home is never again enlivened by his father's family, lonely, while his mother's family is not much, only a few people.

His mother has also changed a lot, not fierce anymore, has been diligent in taking care of the house, gardening behind the house, planting flowers in the yard.

The house is neat, no more scribbles on the walls because his sister has been big all, the living room is usually like a broken ship, check swimmers already look neat, clean.

Tomorrow he will go to Jogja to continue his S2 education at UGM, taking the Study Master Program in Management of the Faculty of Economics.

It has been a while since his father had a heart attack and was admitted to the ICU.

Last year he completed his S1 Ekonomy education at the University of Negri Jambi (UNJA ) on a late-day extension program, which he completed

in just a few years because many courses can be transferred.

Now he gets a scholarship from his place of work to continue to S2 and he chooses

UGM as a place of education.

Hendra may have been a doctor, may also have married Hartini the International Relations student.

Atika may have become a lecturer as his ideals first, ah the girl may be a struggle, all students will feel at home for a long time in the classroom listening to the beautiful lecturer chattering, and, or maybe there are also some students who fall in love with the good lecturer.

Then what about Saras?, already a Psychilogical scholar is he?, surely!, Haris is sure of that, and his patient?, surely bejibun, bejibun, maybe even healthy people want to consult with him just to look at his beautiful face.

His close friends while in High School were married, already anchored in bail with their respective partners.

She heard she was married to a military officer, now with her husband in Borneo.

Without feeling that he had left Jogja for four years, leaving UGM with all his sorrows, without carrying a diploma.

Now that things have been very different, technological advances have changed everything, have made many conveniences.

No need to send a new letter until after days, just write a message in Hp seconds it will also arrive.

No more queues at the post office to send letters and wessels, no more queues at the telecom office to send telegrams. Warung Telephone (Wartel ), which used to be crowded after 9 pm because the cost is cheap, now empty, one by one fell, closed.

Money transfer is very easy, no need to jostle at the post office, just press the button at the ATM, even from home by utilizing the services in HP. Those who receive remittances do not have to wait for days, do not have to go to the office to ask for a stamp, do not need to queue very long at the post office or at the bank, just press the button at the ATM then that second also the money will be taken without going through a convoluted procedure.

The two magic objects are HP and STM has become a staple, especially for overseas students.

The city of Jambi is no longer like it used to be, houses on the edges of the highway have been lost to change with the building of shop houses (shophouses ), changed so

the solid walls, already losing their beauty, became a city with checkered buildings.

The high school where he used to go to school has changed completely, there are no more semi-permanent buildings, replaced with two-story wall buildings, no more memories of his past, can no longer reminisce.

If in the past who used a school motorbike can be counted with fingers, now almost all students use a motorbike, not even a few who carry a car parked along the edge of the road in front of the school.

No more riding bicycles, the bicycle parking lot that used to be at the back of the school has turned into a multi-storey building, into a classroom.

Oplet shaped like angkot Sidul Anak Sekolah no longer looks, lost somewhere, changed with minibus L 300 or Suzuki Carry, beautiful indeed but less comfortable, too narrow.

This public vehicle is not as much as it used to be, passengers are also few, quiet, the average school child already has his own vehicle. Although the highway has been widened congestion occurs everywhere, the imbalance between the widening of the road with the increase in the number of vehicles.

It was getting dark, the children who had been playing had gone home all, the sound of the prayer from several mosques around his house, as if simple to invite his people to worship before the creator.

Haris immediately stood up and went inside to pick up the wudu then immediately left for the mosque not far from his home before the prayer began.