The Awake Night is so beautiful and complacent

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In a windowless house, stuffy, stuffy, and hot I stood on the bed without moving from my seat. I watched for a long time the corners of the silent wall from the crickets or the people's voices. Beo birds do not babble once tonight, I miss the sound of the chirping that drove the mosquitoes near the uncluttered sandals in front of the room. The mud from the footwear of many human beings who unknowingly stepped on the floor that had just been swept away this afternoon with a leisurely pace of rain splashers mixing granules from the front yard.

I still noticed the corners of the house that never crowded from the sounds of screams and laughter of my children my age. There is only quiet, empty, and empty. I'm still waiting for a wind that can come unnoticed, passing through the roofs without a hole, through the hallways of the room, past the high attic of the bathroom between the room building and the roofless clothesline. Around six o'clock or eight o'clock at night they would pass by and stop in my narrow room, empty room, only a cupboard, an ankle-size desk, and a pillow-less mattress and a roller, and a lockable, unlocked door.

My friends have been drinking fizzy drinks with fantasy that their hands can not reach, dreams of getting the woman they love and dreaming of wanting to be spiced without anyone knowing. Jazz and spattered raindrops add to the noise of the night. The rooms are like a staging house with a singer and a hoarse voice, they scream, filling the air with the same scream, "Okay".

That's the word I can catch. Either my ear or this feeling is wrong, or my mind is bland, becomes blurry without a word. They shout 'Okay' without pause, stop talking while drinking and kiss the tip of the wet bottle. While it's almost running out of sparkling water in it. I kept watching them, my eyes seeing their happiness-looking eyes. This time, I can see clearly, happy they are not a present, but a pseudo-happy. The happiness came intently, one more time they drank the bottle with toast.

"Finally, finally ...", he said with a screaming tongue. As I watched the mouth stop gaping, I glanced at the contents in a dry bottle. These two hands are crawling on the floor, climbing over the bolsters and lying on their side. The black retina of the eyes all saw the door with gloom, eyes closed with a smile on her lips.

While they were asleep, I heard rain pounding against walls, asbestos, and iron in the stairwell hallway. His voice is noisy, disturbing my lonely. The cloudy situation grew more and more tonight, making the atmosphere more lonely. The clock was eleven o'clock, I was still waiting for the wind that had not arrived yet. I either forgot about me or deliberately away from me. I've been preparing a sarong for the moment when they came in. My body is not cold, and my veins are not shivering like yesterday. My soul floated by hugging myself in a hollow room.