The story doesn't have ordinary plot such as conflicts and ending. Indeed it merely drew scene around my being that night. I posted onto Facebook's note then tagged some friends of mine. Among them, Yessi (lady on picture) left a comment that said: "I don't sure but the story gave me impression of hidden loneliness."
She was right. On that night, I missed my family and daughter. I missed to gather with people whom I love. Traditionally, Ied holiday is occasion for Indonesian especially moeslem, to return homeland from wherever they currently reside are for family gathering. Because of some reasons, I did not return to homeland but instead stayed in Banda Aceh town. I felt loneliness.
It came to my surprise because not a single word on that story mentioned my conscience, but any sounds or views paraded around. I described the world as how it showed through my eyes and how it heard through my ears. I would love to call it painting the nature scenery by alphabets.
She read things I didn't write!
I believe that one shall reflect conscience through any form of communication, in this case writing, although one doesn't describe it directly. It reflects through the description of scene or thought upon the world. Unique experiences through life shape unique conscience in each people. It contributes one identity.
Paulo Coelho once said on Twitter that people see the world, not as it is, but as they are.
I saw surrounding scene as I am, then wrote for Yessi to read. It was chance for her to track-back into my current conscience. My writing is ship for her to sail into my conscience, grab thing hidden there, returned with smile, then opened her hands showing me: 'look here... I found this... loneliness!'.
I was surprised that she read the unwritten story. Be careful if you are happen to be near this Yessy lady!
