FIZAH (Female Kolong Garbage)
PART 209 "Suspended"

Happy reading the last 4 episodes.. 😊 I intentionally post directly together so I can be satisfied.

*Tsaniya Tabriz

I waited for him to wake up the next day. Suddenly my eyes woke up just as the clanking of the clock showed two o'clock. And, just as I opened my eyes, I faced him who was already sleeping.

"What time are you sleeping, Mas?" my inner.

Then I saw my wrist. "He gave me a bracelet?" my thinking. I noticed a simple and beautiful bracelet with the letter T love N. As I felt more guilty at my former request, his attitude grew even sweeter. He showed his maturity as a leader, a manager, a husband who became my role model. I felt like I hurt him in my silence. In the prayer I say every night my tahajud. If it turns out that my prayer first shot far vibrating arsy, then the possibility is that my prayer will be served first. But I never really knew what he prayed for every night. His prayers never for a moment. The wire is always long, at least longer than me. His bow was twice sluggish.

As far as I felt up to this point, she never asked me to do much except, diligently teach, do college assignments, and have me make up when she wanted to. I only realized everything when the guilt became so. Silence as if asking, his smile seemed to heal wounds, while his gaze sometimes sulked and groaned. It's just that as a man he never showed that. Moreover, talk about his feelings. But, maybe he understood what I wanted even though he didn't understand what I was actually restive about. My cheeks warmed.

Mas Nizam squirms. Turn his position into a back. I turned around to back him. I suck my sobs. I guessed with my fingertips.

This Sunday morning Mas Nizam took me out to eat on the side of the road. He said, in order to get a different sensation. Not in the kitchen ndalem with a puff of smoke of fried spices, which makes him have to sneeze up to five times. Or, the taste of some of the men's students who queue at the kitchen door, just to get a special menu made by a new mbak ndalem, a replacement for Mbak Ufi whose name is Fatih Mbak. Mas Nizam asked me to sit on the sidewalk that had been given a tarpaulin. He ordered hodgepodge and ice cendol dawet four thousand.

Put it not far from the pesantren. About two kilos. Passing through the traditional market of village referrals. We set out on an old-fashioned bike that happened to still be usable after Kang Bimo's service three weeks ago. His intention wanted to be sold brother, but abah forbid because the word abah bike obsolete it has a lot of history romance with ummik. Because, suddenly after the ngaos kuku event with the son santri finished, he immediately asked me to dress up. He got ready first, pulled out his bike from the back shed and pumped it himself. And, in front of the struggling santri-santri enjoying his breakfast menu, he asked me to go straight up before he pedaled.

"Still waiting. Laper really isn't?"

"Mboten, Mom. Not a rumble. Thanks, yeah, Mas."

"Either. Beautiful.your this one. New scabbard? How did you never know you were wearing that?"

"Sarung from Mbak Ufi, Mas. He gave it to her before she spit."

Mas Nizam smiled. Watching my wrist. I wanted to take off some of my jewelry, but Mas Nizam banned it for no reason. He told her never to let go of the jewelry she had given him, no matter what the reason.

I'm setting up sentences. I spread my eyes so that I can't be seen thinking about something.

"Mas, here's seger, huh?" That's what came out.

"Yes. Out of the store ma'am, Mas try this market path. If the shallow afternoon here is not a hodgepodge, but a rabbit satay. Your favorite. I think it looks good if early in the morning can go together with you. How come we never thought of walking around with this gini-shots, huh, Ning?"

"I also don't know, Mas, if Abah has an old bike that has been damaged. If it's a surgery, it's my habit first."

Mas Nizam. "Suwun, Mbok."

He put his hodgepodge in front of me. I changed my sitting position to cross-legged. Seeing Mas Nizam craving to eat, I held back my sentence. He didn't talk to me until the plate was clean.

"hasn't?"

"Remove, Mas." I pretended to have a good appetite. I spent it even though I wasn't really very tasteful.

I got up and brought two dirty dishes to the seller. Then back to sit eating a cendol dawet.

"Mas, can I talk to you for a second?"

"Have. By the way, Ning."

I said Basmalah in my heart.

"Then I went to the doctor..."

His face immediately lit up. Seeing him talk, I felt like I started the wrong sentence.

"Check the contents, Mas."

"Continue?"

"Say I'm healthy, Mom."

"Who said you were sick?"

"It's not like that. Actually, every month I always check using a test pack. The result is always negative. I've been thinking, and we've been trying a lot..."

I enslaved. Talking to your husband, why is it so embarrassing? I swallowed spit.

"Alhamdulillah if you are healthy. It is not yet time to be loved by momongan."

"Mas is fine, right? It's okay, right?"

"Yes, Ning."

"I'm healthy, Mom. Really healthy. Everything's been checked. There is no problem in the slightest even though my menstrual cycle sometimes retreats. But it's still normal said the doctor. Sorry I didn't tell Mas Nizam. Should have been a farewell first. Mas Nizam has gone to college first."

"Yes, Ning, it's okay."

"Mas, the doctor's mom also suggested we check together if there is time. I checked it again and Mas too."

He moved his sitting position closer. Our knees touched too. He brought his face closer. Speaking half a whisper, "Are you forcing yourself?"

"Forcing how, Mas?"

"You don't have to force anything. Even though we have tried, if you are grateful, have not been given thanks, Ning. Don't worry so much like this. I don't like you overthing. Mendem is all alone."

"But you, Mom?"

"OKAY. We check again sometime. Both. The doctor said the cause might be me, right?"

"Yes. I've known that a long time ago. Whatever the outcome, we'll work together."

"Mas, if if we are later required to promil continue to be rich baby tube how?"

"No need. Let's wait until your memorization is solemn. That's the most important."

"Mas, but now I'm thinking big."

"Yes, we are just living it. After all, if the next two years we haven't been given a son, that's also part of our fortune, Ning. The angel has recorded our hopes since we were married."

"Mass?" My lips vibrate. My eyes feel like light.

"Ning, how is it crying?"

"Pengen mewek, Mas." I immediately rubbed it. Kubendung with the tip of my hijab.

"Dimension is spent on the cendol. Tasty still cold gini."

"Mas, again want to cry instead tell me to finish cendol. Pripun njenengan i (how are you)."

"Do you know the song cendol dawet?"

"What about you, Mas?" I sipped.

"Play bojo if not wrong. Didi Kempot."

"Don't understand me, Mom."

"Gini. You're horrified."

Koyo ngene rasane wong nandang

Rino wengi atiku rasane

Tansah kepingin nyawang

Sedelo wae uwis emoh

Cidro tegane kowe

Change sprene suwene I ngenteni

"Mas, I hope you see those people." Mas Nizam is singing, but I am ashamed. Scroll some people who buy hodgepodge. They smiled looking at us. I nodded. Whiny.

"Mas, mboten sae (not good) people see."

Mas Nizam stopped for a moment. Look at the people who are still watching us.

"Mas, great, Mas. Continue," chirped one of the young men.

"Ready, Mas."

Mas Nizam continued as requested.

"Why is there even a concert like this, oh my God."

I can't tell him to stop. Mas Nizam's behavior seems to be entertaining. Plus her sweet voice. One or two people are pointing at a smartphone. I immediately turned away. I bow my face.

My inner cry does not grantes my urip

Teles kabes netes you know my chest

Cendol dawet, cendol, dawet seger

Cendol cendol dawet

Cendol cendol dawet

Cendol cendol dawet

Cendol, bawet seger, piro

Five hundredths, keep using sticky rice

Ji, ro, lu, pat, six, pitu, wolu

No tick no tick no tung

No tick no tick no tung

No tick no tick no tung

Lolo, lolo, yes!

Source: musixmatch