We're Latitude

Our Latitude - Part 1 Latitude

Section 1 Latitude

Latitude Kemuning, Controller.

AFTER a week not at home, Mama came home with a bruised face. Have you ever seen the face of a thief after being beaten up by a village? Begi-plague Mama's face now. Mama went home with Aunt Lea, her sister.

I'm watching from a safe distance. I don't want to get too close, but I don't want to go too far either. After all, that woman is my mother. So I wanted to know the circumstances, even if only by observing without expecting to get an explanation. Neither from Mama nor Aunt Lea.

“Lin.”

Finally Aunt Lea spoke to me. “Have eaten?”

I shook my head with a strange sense of loud beatings. Such distracting questions can sometimes still be disappointing. I often get something like that. I was immune to it. However, this time I want to also be disappointed to be more human and there are variations. Misadventure for misfortune makes me feel even further away from the earth. So sometimes, accidentally I often do improvisation. Let all kayak be okay. The first misadventure was that at twenty-five years of age, I was still considered a child. I have no right to know what happened, be-lum has a voice to give advice let alone a solution. So, according to them I also do not need to know why the face of Mama bonyok. I was really lazy to ask because it was useless. They will make free. Rather than sinning them for lying, I chose silence.

In fact, I've heard, anyway, the Mama bonyok chapter so. I know more than the news on television and the internet. Said the news, my mama was gang-raped and beaten by her poly-tick opponent. As for the people in the camp of his political opponents, my mama was making things up to mess up the atmosphere. She just had plastic surgery, nothing more, they said. Netizens want to know the truth from Mama. Especially me!“Mama is okay,” said Mama while buying watches, necklaces, and other accessories from her parents.

My seringaiku appeared because it was urged to feel funny as good as sadness. I know my mama. He is indeed ambitious, a dissident— especially on Papa who since I was a child chose to part with him—hard head, ‘gila’, and diligently saving grudges. However, he—though not yet hijab— is a Muslim who cu-up afraid to change the shape of the face. He is still picky too, really, in sin. I'm sure changing the shape of the face instead of—not yet—became his sinful choice. Because he's afraid of needles and doesn't like seeing doctors. So, ‘ ruining’ faces so de-ngan political goals, maybe not the way that it will be occupied.

After all she loves that cute pointed nose. A proportional nose, not man-cung, not a pug, nangkring on his ovary face. Now his breathing apparatus is twice as large. Blue and ugly. He must be very sad too. Ta-Pi, after all, as a stubborn woman, she will still fight on what she believes is the truth.

“Ma ”

“Ya,” said while letting Aunt Lea apply herbal oil to her bruised face.

“Papa tomorrow to here.” “Ya, yes. , can.”

He didn't even ask what the man was coming here for. If only he had asked, maybe I would have been alone. But, because no, yes. This time, it's,

I am moving forward, as my heart is about to start a new life tomorrow.

“Lilin!” Aunt Lea's call made my move stop again.

“There is goat fried rice on the dining table, if you want.”

“Hmmm,” my response is flat.

I continued my steps to the room. Before, I had to pass through the dim dining room. The lights in this room have been turned off, only getting light from your room that has not been closed. Instead of finding a box of goat-fried rice on the dinner table, my eyes were forced to look at the Japanese geezer again. He sat on one of the dining table chairs and gave me a grin.Mayoru.