Rubah Beternak

I have dreamed of you. Leaning on the fences of your balcony, the morning sun shines behind you. A smile was plastered on your face as you told me about what happened to you today. I can't remember what you said, but you were happy. And I, too, was happy to see that. To see that you are happy. I have dreamed of you. And you were so beautiful when the morning breeze played with your hair. When the sunlight kissed your face. When you smiled and outshined the sun. When you— I will be honest with you, but I think you are beautiful even when the only thing you do is breathing, and alive, and exist. Have I told you that I like how you smell like the coffee you brew for your customers? I don't know when it started, but I began to associate the dark liquid with you. The smell, the dark-brown color, it's you. You, you, you. I think it's unfair how you took up and claimed colors as your own in my head. Because how is it fair when various ranges of brown make me picture you, worki...

 The Angel came to tell me that my days are numbered. The Angel? The Devil? At this point, I don't know anymore. "I will give you the time to do 10 things you wanna do before you die." And I said, "Neat. Did you give my friends the same chances when you came to pick them up?" "No." he said, "You are a special case." "How so?" I asked. "The Gods are pleased with you," "Oh? Is He?" I snickered. "For keeping Him entertained the whole time?" The Angel was silent for a moment. "No." he said, "For keeping Them company the whole time." "But They have decided they stall you for too long." "You may go home now."