4th Person

From here, I can see. The woman, sitting with a book on her lap. She is so busy reading the same passage, her eyes don’t move. She does not reverse its pages for minutes. Wrinkles come from her forehad. No, she is not reading. She is thinking.

However, in the opposite, a man is looking at that woman. The smokes billowing out of his mouth. His hand looks busy flicking the cigarette ashes. He leaned against the wall behind him, his legs twitching, as if following the complexities that exist in his mind.

I’m always interested. A silent witness of two human beings, Adam incarnation busy dreaming about the incarnation of Eve. A woman who never knew that they are secretly admired. Maybe someone she had known for a long time.

Back again, the man is sucking on his cigarette, but this time is different. The restlessness also sucked into the cavity of his mind, produce bitterness that greatly, he could get rid of. Still he looks at her. Nothing changed. Then a wad of paper slapped his face, comes from another woman who turned out had been sitting next to the man. I was not aware. The woman laughed, like she teased him.

Heard someone laughing out loud, the woman turned to the source of the sound. Then she looks on the other side, the man embraced the woman beside him, smiling.

She then quickly turned away and headed for a dustbin. She tore a page from a book which he had ponder, and without hesitation threw it into the mouth of the trash that had been gaping like waiting to be fed. She walked away. The woman disappeared without look over her shoulder anymore.

So, the stairs of the library where I sat and this sweet ice tea are witnesses of me, which also was a witness of two souls that turned out not to fall in love. Separation. They have split. I was stunned, grieving.

But unfortunately, it’s none of my business. This sweet ice tea is better.

Like what you read? Give Ristyana Prabasari a round of applause.

From a quick cheer to a standing ovation, clap to show how much you enjoyed this story.