Sinful Angel
SA Chapter 1
Sinful Angel Chapter 1
Drizzle swept through the city of Bandung at midnight this time. Street lights refract their subtle hues barely visible, soaking the white D-plated Fortuner roof that stops in front of the fence of a minimalist house with a sage green feel.
From inside the house, a middle-aged man was stirred open the fence wide while rubbing his eyes, giving the white car access to enter the garage.
An adult man with a firm jawline equipped with wide shoulders, got off the steering bench. His handsome face looked haggard and tired, both of his eyes reddened withstanding the drowsiness. Opening the trunk, he went to the back of the car and lowered the carrying box with the logo Bakpia Pathok 25, souvenirs typical of Yogyakarta.
The middle-aged man was covered in a sarong cloth that had opened the fence approached. Take over all the souvenir parcels.
“Mamang think Den Bisma so first nginap on the way home from Yogyakarta and not directly back home. Mamang fell asleep in the rear gazebo while watching the world cup ball. Sorry, Mamang pules sleep, so a little late open the fence.”
“Not a problem, Mang Eko. My original plan was to stay on the trip and continue my return the next day. But tomorrow morning I have an impromptu schedule with some important relationships related to my work. They invited playing futsal together, so I immediately tancap gas back to Bandung even though tired of heavy.”
Bhishma felt her tense back. Grimacing felt his body ache everywhere. The calf feels stiff, driving alone a long journey is not easy.
“It is better that Den Bisma just go in and rest. It's almost 2 in the morning. There are only a few hours to go by morning. Let Mamang who haul and settle all the souvenirs into, all want to lock the fence again,” said the Mang Eko quickly responded when he found the expression of Bisma tired extraordinary.
“OK. Thank you, Mang,” he said that sounded tired wrapped in sleepiness that is increasingly intensifying.
“Oh Yes, Den. Yesterday afternoon there was a package of documents for Den Bisma. Already Mamang put his letter in the room.”
“Mamang also don't know. The name of the sender is hard to read. Use the language of the Caucasian people like that,” explained Mang Eko as it is.
“Ya already, let me see for myself later.”
Towards the main room, Bisma rushed to the bathroom. Clean-clean the way before slam his tired body into a soft mattress that has been abandoned a week.
“Akh, looks like I need a massage. Why does my body feel decrepit when I am only 31 years old? Could the effects of the pent-up testosterone hormone for two years have made me easily tired and sore lately?” he murmured while staring at the ceiling and spread his back.
“Ck, what kind of thought is this? It is clearly tired this feels because it is busy working. It's better to sleep, let this brain not think strangely!” his grunts nagged themselves.
Bisma quickly pulled the blanket and intended to take the remote control of the air conditioning on a small table beside the bed. Will adjust the temperature so that it is comfortable to cover his sleep. However, his attention was distracted by a letter lying next to the AC remote.
The bisma took it, sat herself down. flipped through the envelope and focused her sleepy eyes on reading the identity of the sender which was written small on the bottom of the brown envelope.
Sender: Your Ex-Wife
Seriate.