The Skewers House
Ring

A pair of eyes blinked, staring at the dark sky of the room. A few moments after getting used to it, only a faint look at the corner of the room with a wooden cabinet leaning there. The image held his head that felt heavy. Slightly dizzy, with a throbbing forehead.

The image felt the palpation of his bed mattress. There was no Prambudi there, he was sleeping alone at the moment. The image averted its gaze, staring at the small bed separated from it. Amanda was seen sleeping on her back.

Citra tries to sit, although her body feels lackluster and powerless she forced to lean on the wooden couch behind her. He really felt sleepy and weak. And that's what astonished him. Since moving to a rented house, almost every night Citra has always felt tremendous sleepiness. A weak body, and a suddenly disappearing energy arrived. Imagery thinks it's possible he's anemic right now.

The image grabbed the HP next to where it slept. Half an hour one night. The image then turned to look, Prambudi's bed was completely empty. Where is her husband? As he remembered earlier, after returning home from work Prambudi invited him to eat outside. That night her husband made a warm tea, as well as milk for Amanda. Afterwards, Citra somehow felt an incredible drowsiness. Until finally without waiting for Prambudi, Citra sleeps first.

She now feels guilty for her husband. He did not offer Prambudi to play in bed, even though they had not done so for a long time. The image of feeling guilty at the end of this he was easily sleepy and did not serve Prambudi properly.

"Uuhhhh," The image holds back from evaporating. She massaged her own forehead.

The image opens the blanket, then moves from the bed. The image of walking out of the room was still slightly shaken. His body felt heavy, his eyes felt so burdened. Several times he covered his mouth withstanding the drowsiness that kept attacking.

The image looked at the living room, deserted. Prambudi wasn't there. The front door was locked from the inside. The image went to the kitchen, and there was no Prambudi there. Two glasses of tea last night were still on the table.

"What is this scent?," Image muttered. There is a foreign fragrance that pierces the senses of the Citra smeller. He sniffed the sniff, looking for the source of the fragrance.

In the corner of the kitchen, there was a fragment of tile with ashes of something burning. The smell is soothing. The image clung to the wall, the footrests of his legs faltering. The fragrance he was breathing at this moment somehow felt like a sleeping pill that made him even more sleepy.

Duk duk

Sounds like footsteps upstairs. Citra was sure it was her husband. Still holding the wall, Citra walked back to the stairs. His sleepiness became more so, his eyes invited resigned to be closed, but the curiosity in his heart continued to invite him to walk.

With his legs healed, Citra climbed one step after another. His hands clung tightly to the iron fence stuck on the stairs, while his legs were feeling increasingly limp still he forced to walk. Half-crawl the image towards the top floor. The fragrance began to disappear in the middle of the stairs, alternating with a breeze that felt cold piercing the skin that was only wrapped in thin pajamas.

The image continued to step, the drowsiness that almost made him give up now began to disappear. The cold night air was enough to keep him awake. The image finally reached the top floor. The road is still stuck.

Upstairs, the room that is always locked at this time also remains tightly closed. The other room saw the door open wide, the night wind blowing from there. The image looks into the room, Prambudi sat cross-legged facing the balcony.

In the middle of the cold air Prambudi is seen wearing only black trousers without wearing clothes. His back muscles look so stocky and sturdy hit by a light beam that is not so bright.

"Mas Pram?" Citra called her husband slowly.

"Citra?," Prambudi turned his head, his expression looking so strange. He looked surprised and a little scared.

Dukes

Thing Thing thing

An object fell from Prambudi's hand, rolling and sliding towards Citra.

Tracks

A ring swivels and stops just below the foot of the image. The image bends and picks it up. A white gold ring that looks beautifully shiny. There is an engraving with a triangular emblem in the center of the ring.

"Who's ring is Mas?," Citra asked full of inquires.

Prambudi sighed, then stood up from his seat. He walked closer to Citra. Prambudi clasped his wife's hand, and looked at her deeply.

"That's a ring for you, baby. I was hesitant to give it to you" Prambudi said softly.

"Emmm, I've been wanting to buy you a ring for a long time. I'm afraid you don't like it, so yes all this time I've kept the ring, "Prambudi gently caressed his wife's hair.

"Well, I love it" The image of the ring, so beautiful.

"Here I put it on," Prambudi grabbed the ring, attached it to Citra's ring finger. It was too big, too loose.

"Wow, it doesn't fit. I'm sorry, baby" Prambudi looked disappointed.

"No pa pa Mas. Let me just wear it here," Citra put the ring on her index finger, it was fitting.

"Thank you Mas" Citra smiled, hugging her husband so tightly.

While hugging Prambudi, Citra felt her husband's body slightly sticky. How could it be that in the midst of the current cold, her husband was sweating?

"Mas Pram has finished what he did?," Citra asked again, still in Prambudi's arms.

"Ah seek the wind. I don't know why I sweat so easily" Prambudi replied lightly.

"It wants to be like Mas in fact," Citra still hugs Prambudi.

"Yes, I don't know. My body was sultry," Prambudi let go of his wife's embrace.

"You can wake up yourself?" Prambudi asked.

"Huh? Yes you can, if you can't wake up ya gawad dong Mas?," Citra replied half jokingly.

"I mean you're up, it's midnight. Lots of rest there gih," Prambudi scratched his scratching head.

"I know you Mas, you end there is no. No bobok next to me," Citra replied spoiled.

"By the way under that Mas bake what the hell? The smell was drowsy," The image recalled the strange fragrance in the kitchen area.

"Ohh, that. .natural mosquito repellent," answered Prambudi slightly stuttered. Citra nodded in confidence.

"Mas, I'm sorry. At the end of this I often sleep first not waiting for you," Citra grasped Prambudi's hand, she felt the need to apologize to her husband.

"Yeah Cit. Not pa pa kok. You may still need to adapt, so skirt, cook yourself, puri, momong Amanda too. Its okay dear," Prambudi smilingly stroked Citra's hair.

"Emm, by the way Mas do not want?," Citra asked hesitantly to Prambudi.

"Huh? Want what?" Prambudi frowned not knowing.

"Pengen me," Citra suddenly just took off the thin pajamas she was wearing. Prambudi was a little surprised, but finally understood. His wife was missing him, missing him. Admittedly, they haven't done it in a long time.

And finally tonight the husband and wife enjoy the cold night air by touching and warming each other.

Connect . . .