Beratapkan Rembulan

Kami berdua termenung di depan WC — memang bukan tempat paling syahdu untuk sama-sama merenung — dengan sebuah benda batangan di genggaman, memuat hasil yang tak pernah kami perkirakan…

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The Wait

Sitting here, in this station, whether a train station or bus station I do not know, but it must be the most boring thing I have ever done. I am sitting on a wooden bench. It must have been made years ago before because the wood grains have now turned a disgusting black, knowing thousands of people have been here before me. The wood is engrained into my back, making an extremely uncomfortable feeling, yet I could not move or rather would not? It is like I made a decision to stay seated in this position ions ago and now seeing the choice was wrong, cannot change it. What kind of place is this?

I look around the room the best I can without moving too much. To my surprise, there is only one door directly in front of me. The door is a pair of old french doors, having glass panels from top to bottom being framed out by a beautiful specimen of oak. Although, the door is rather disgusting as well. Dust covering the brass handles and hinges. Cobwebs over it dropping down from the sagging, half-lit exit sign. It hasn’t been opened for years.

I begin to notice the rest of the station, dust in the corner, broken windows boarded up by plywood that looks weathered and even patched in certain spots. The air is stale, dusty enough that it creates almost a sepia overtone to the entire room. There is an analog clock that reads 7:59 above the boarded-up windows to my right. My senses finally awakening, I begin to hear buzzing above me. I look up and notice the flickering lights above, missing bulbs, burnt out bulbs, who takes care of this place?

This place is falling apart. I begin to observe the people around me, they all seem to be dressed rather very differently. Some wear military uniforms, like mine, but — they are older, much older. Some others where victorian age gowns, greek chlamys, animal skins, a construction worker outfit, who are these people?

How did they all get in here without me noticing? I have been here for a while. I wonder when it will arrive for me. The feeling is still nagging in my back. Until I notice the people here are also covered in dust, the older outfits worn the more dust and cobwebs are on these people around me. I hear my heart begin pounding in my ears. Wait, how did I get in here?

My breathing is quickening now. One moment, I was on a plane flying overseas for deployment and then poof I am here. Oh, this must be a dream, oh it all makes sense now. I will just close my eyes and wake up. I close them. I wait patiently, for what seems like hours. Mind…

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