We watched the sun went down together. Suddenly became paralysed by its warmth. He said nothing, me neither. Sank in deep thoughts and tough, drowned into a heaped of past and lasts.
…and I started to count, very softly through my breath, as the light slowly went down, showing the shape of the island which was hiding beneath.
1, 2, 3 ….
“Tak ada satu hal pun tanpa bayang-bayang, kecuali terang itu sendiri.”
— Pramoedya Ananta Toer, Child of All Nations.
Some say dark is the most beautiful thing, some also fear to be left by the light. Frightened, insecurity, sorrow—they live in the darkness, with the shadow shrouds their back, haunts them like the Angel of Death.
It is sad, for some people. But there is always a good thing.