Tuesday, December 29, 2009


09:41:53 I rang him up.
But I had to hang up.
My baby sister entered my room, looking for her marker or some sort.
She found it and exited.

I rang him up again.
His sleepy voice answered my cheery greeting.

"Assalamualaikum!" I said.
A drowsy "Wa alaikum salam" was his answer.
I smiled.
He was asleep.
It was Saturday after all.
And he was not an early waker even during the school days.

"I have something to confess," I told him,
a smile playing on my lips though he couldn't see.
"Hmm" was his reply.

I continued, "I have a crush on somebody else."
And he grunted in his half-sleep.
"You're supposed to be jealous," I reminded him
and he grunted again.

"Which character in a book now that you're crushing in?"
he managed to say, half-yawning.
I smiled.
I had an urge to kiss him at that moment and instead launched into a story depicting my current crush to which he grunted and hmmed in all the most adorable manner.
I pictured him laying in his bed, half asleep, with his eyes still closed,
his phone laid beside him just close enough to his ear to hear me talk.
And I smiled.
I wanted to kiss him again and hold him in my arms.

"What do you want to do now?" I asked him,
to which he promptly replied "Sleep."
And I said to him half pouting,
though he couldn't see it,
"Don't you miss me?"
to which he replied "I miss you too."

I left him to sleep then.
And I ended the  call.
"Okay then," I said.
Again a grunt was all he could muster.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
"Wa alaikum salam."

A brief silence.
He had drifted back to sleep I assumed.
I smiled and looked at my book.
I hang up the phone.

"Nobody Owens," I said outloud to myself
and flicked through the pages of the book
its characters running around in my head
future possibilities and what-might-happens of
Miss Lupescu,
Liza and Scarlett
the Kiss-on-the-Cheek,
his Passport,
Jacks of All Trades,
the Owens, the Dorians,
and all and Nobody Owens.

I smiled.
And for a good quarter of an hour I laid on my bed,
that good unshakable, fuzzy electric feeling
of a good well-written well-read--
of its characters and stories imprinted on one's head--

I smiled for the hundredth times today.
And typed this up on my laptop.
10:20 AM 12/27/2009


Read the book if you haven't.

Visit the website:



Hazbi Emre

komik hitman reborn nggak kamu rekomendasikan?

Intan Alasdair

After this. :)


I almost picked this book up the other day. I ended up buying The Men Who Stare At Goats (which was only so-so, but it costs several yen cheaper anyway).

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