She knew what she would find when she opened her email that morning – she had guiltily been expecting it for a few days now and was hoping she would have a witty reply when it did, but she hadn’t yet, so when it did appear, she had to give him credit for waiting so long to ask. She knew the end of the month was indeed approaching and she should have finished by now.
“How are you getting on with it?”
She bit into the salted tempe cracker – one of the foods she loved in this Asian country to which she was returning after several long bitter months in the cold of the West – wiped the sweat from her brow (why did she always perspire after eating), took a sip of the soft drink that for some reason tasted SO much better in this country than its own, and pulled out the computer.
“Yeah yeah, I’m getting on with it…” she muttered to no one, and that’s when it happened.
“Ayo! Ayo! Keluar! Astagh firullah….keluar! Keluar!!” Some local was suddenly shouting for everyone to get out. Very strange for this gentle culture where any kind of commotion was taboo. She turned her head towards the door – left open just a touch to allow the hot air to circulate through the apartment – to see who was making the fuss, when the panicked voice was drowned out by a tremendous force of sudden wind that blew the door open and knocked her off her chair.
“Ampunilah, Tuhan! Ampun!” Someone begging for God’s mercy and forgiveness returned her to consciousness. Her cat, previously luxuriating on the couch, was tucked under her arm there on the floor, meowing loudly, as if she were the one begging forgiveness.
“What the…..what’s going on?” she hazily wondered, bringing herself upright, cat in her arms. The wimpering and crying outside melded into a dull roar as she surveyed her apartment. Nothing irreparable, except the computer perhaps, laying smashed on the floor – otherwise just papers strewn everywhere as if an angry god had thrown a tantrum.
With the cat still meowing and clutching her arm, refusing to be released to the unreliable ground, she walked towards the doorway where she saw her local neighbors huddled together, crying, wimpering, begging forgiveness of an unseen force.
“What happened?” she asked.
One raised his head from the huddle.
“The tide has turned,” he said, and returned to praying.
“How are you getting on with it?”
She bit into the salted tempe cracker – one of the foods she loved in this Asian country to which she was returning after several long bitter months in the cold of the West – wiped the sweat from her brow (why did she always perspire after eating), took a sip of the soft drink that for some reason tasted SO much better in this country than its own, and pulled out the computer.
“Yeah yeah, I’m getting on with it…” she muttered to no one, and that’s when it happened.
“Ayo! Ayo! Keluar! Astagh firullah….keluar! Keluar!!” Some local was suddenly shouting for everyone to get out. Very strange for this gentle culture where any kind of commotion was taboo. She turned her head towards the door – left open just a touch to allow the hot air to circulate through the apartment – to see who was making the fuss, when the panicked voice was drowned out by a tremendous force of sudden wind that blew the door open and knocked her off her chair.
“Ampunilah, Tuhan! Ampun!” Someone begging for God’s mercy and forgiveness returned her to consciousness. Her cat, previously luxuriating on the couch, was tucked under her arm there on the floor, meowing loudly, as if she were the one begging forgiveness.
“What the…..what’s going on?” she hazily wondered, bringing herself upright, cat in her arms. The wimpering and crying outside melded into a dull roar as she surveyed her apartment. Nothing irreparable, except the computer perhaps, laying smashed on the floor – otherwise just papers strewn everywhere as if an angry god had thrown a tantrum.
With the cat still meowing and clutching her arm, refusing to be released to the unreliable ground, she walked towards the doorway where she saw her local neighbors huddled together, crying, wimpering, begging forgiveness of an unseen force.
“What happened?” she asked.
One raised his head from the huddle.
“The tide has turned,” he said, and returned to praying.
Jasmin Webb
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