Category Archives: Fiction

God & His Pop Quiz

For the recent 2 weeks, i feel like God has been testing me for a ‘decision-making’ course. All of the ‘problems’ i’ve been having were dilemmatic, very very confusing, and i think the final test was what he gave me yesterday.

Here’s the crux, i’ve been accepted to work at a company and will start working in December. And suddenly, this company that i applied and interviewed for about almost 2 months ago, (and not to mention that i also fond with) called me and said that i’m going to have a final interview today at 10. It’s totally not easy.

Both companies are giving their own pluses & minuses and the positions i’m going to have were almost the same, both are my passion: one as a copywriter (which i’ve been yearning since forever)-i’ve learned all about it by myself-and that’s just like my dream job. And the other was as a social media & creative writer, which i think i’d love to do either.

I don’t know, seriously, the whole yesterday, i kept thinking about whether will i come to the final interview or not, i could negotiate for higher salary, i could prevent myself to take that ‘dangerous’ public transportation (it is called ‘metromini’) everyday to work, even though the office will be around 30 minutes further than the other one, i remember they told me there will be compensations which are not provided by the first company.

But, but, but, i then started to think, even if it will be better and stuff and stuff, is it going to be polite, or ethical, or else, if i suddenly call the first company (i haven’t signed the contract, but still, we’ve shaken hands) and tell that i’m not going to work there, just 2 days before the H-day?

Seriously, how’s that going to sound? How’s my image will look like? I’m going to seem to be a person whose words can’t be trusted and you know—–irresponsible?

So here’s what i did (just now), i called the company which asked me for the final interview and told about what’s the reason i couldn’t take that ‘seriously-lovely’ opportunity given to me. I talked about how i loved and very grateful to be given such opportunity and feel very sorry that i need to turn it down since i have to keep my words to the first company.

I hope i made the right decision.

Oh, gosh, i still couldn’t stop thinking about it. I’m so afraid of making the wrong decisions and there’s no clue about which was right. God, you are very amazing, just a single pitch and you make my world. You and your pop-quiz, please spare me, i’m not that smart to understand but you know what, yes, i’ll take responsibility for my own decisions.

I turned this one down, and in 2 days i’m going to start working for the first company. Just please, don’t let something bad happen to me. I’ve prepared for everything.

Ouch, this post now turned to be so personal and trivia, damn, damn, damn, okay, stop it. Inhale, exhale. Well, now i just hope that if something’s not right happened and there’s no ‘spark’ between me and the first company, i just wish that the opportunity will still be open for me in the future.

God & His pop-quiz, well, i’m almost an agnostist,

but, still, “Amen!”

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Si Gadis Kecil & Bintang Jatuh

Sebuah bangku berpunggung menjadi pijakannya, piyama besar berwarna indigo yang menjaganya dari masuk angin bergerak halus setiap kali si gadis kecil menjinjitkan kakinya. Dia pikir dia harus cukup tinggi, atau setidaknya lebih tinggi dari dirinya yang asli-tanpa bangku, tanpa berjinjit-untuk mencapai angkasa.

Sesekali dia menggapaikan tangannya tegak-tegak ke arah atas, berharap ada bintang yang akan tersaring ke dalam kepalan tangannya yang mungil. Matanya bersinar, terpukau oleh lampu-lampu melayang yang menempel di kanvas hitam berukuran tak terhingga di atas sana. Bulan begitu bulat. Langit begitu menawan. Dan sebuah bintang jatuh pun melengkapi malam itu.

“Mama! Cepat ke sini, lihat ada bintang jatuh!” pekik si gadis kecil sambil mengayuhkan tangannya seolah-olah itu bisa mempercepat kehadiran ibunya.

“Oh ya?” Ibu si gadis kecil yang tadinya sedang sibuk merapikan baju bergegas menghampiri anaknya yang ada di teras rumah. “Mana?” tanyanya saat sampai ke sisi si gadis kecil, mengitarkan mata ke segala arah tapi tidak melihat bintang jatuh yang disebutkan anaknya.

“Sudah hilang,” kata si gadis kecil sedikit kecewa karena ibunya datang terlambat.

“Wah, sayang sekali, padahal kalau ada tadi mama mau membuat permohonan.”

“Permohonan? Kenapa?”

“Karena, katanya si bintang jatuh akan mengabulkan permohonan itu,” kata Ibu si gadis kecil sambil membetulkan poni anaknya lalu menoel hidungnya sampai dia terkekeh geli.

“Benarkah itu, Ma?”

Ibunya mengangguk sambil tersenyum.

“Mama, lihat! Ada bintang jatuh lagi!” si gadis kecil memekik lagi sambil menunjuk ke sebuah cahaya terang yang melesat cepat ke arah Barat Laut.

“Wah, benar!” kata sang ibu saat melihat sinar yang sama. “Ayo cepat kita pejamkan mata dan buat permohonan, sayang,” sambung Ibu sambil melakukan perintahnya sendiri.

Beberapa detik berlalu. Ibu dan si gadis kecil hanyut dalam pejam itu, masing-masing merapalkan permohonan mereka di dalam hati dengan penuh kesungguhan. Setelah selesai, mereka membuka mata cepat-cepat. Sang bintang jatuh sudah hilang.

“Apa permohonanmu, sayang?” tanya ibu sambil memeluk pinggang si gadis kecil.

“Ra-ha-si-a.” Si gadis kecil tersenyum kekanakan memamerkan giginya yang ompong di bagian kanan atas.

Ibu melirik dengan tatapan menyudut, dia tahu benar caranya mengikuti permainan si gadis kecil. Tangan yang dipakainya untuk memeluk pinggang anaknya pun mulai beraksi, jarinya menari-nari menggelitik si gadis kecil. “Ayo, mau main rahasia-rahasia-an sama mama ya?”

“hihihi …” Si gadis kecil kegelian dengan jurus gelitikan ibu. Tapi di sisi lain sebenarnya dia menyukainya.

“Ayo, beritahu mama. Apa permohonanmu?” Ibu mulai menusuk-nusuk pelan perut si gadis kecil. Membuat si gadis kecil terpingkal-pingkal seperti kelinci yang kekenyangan oleh wortel segar.

“Iya, iya, aku beritahu.” Si gadis kecil menahan ‘serangan’ ibu dengan tangan mungilnya. Setelah berhasil mengatasi kegelian dan pingkalnya sendiri, dia berujar sambil menatap ibunya dengan mata nanar, “Aku berharap si bintang jatuh baik-baik saja, Ma.”

Ibu menekuk lehernya, tidak berhasil memahami perkataan anaknya. “Hah? Apa maksudmu, sayang?”

“Iya, mama. Si bintang sudah jatuh dari langit setinggi itu, lalu harus berpisah dari teman-temannya, kasihan sekali kan? Semoga dia baik-baik saja.”

Ibu terdiam. Masih belum sepenuhnya berhasil mencerna apa yang disampaikan anaknya. Matanya menatap ke arah jatuhnya bintang yang tadi dilihatnya. Dalam hatinya kata-kata si gadis kecil bergaung-gaung. Si bintang jatuh dari langit setinggi itu, lalu harus berpisah dari teman-temannya, kasihan sekali kan?

“Mama,” panggil si gadis kecil membangunkan ibu dari lamunannya.

“Iya, sayang?”

“Apa tidak ada yang peduli pada si bintang yang sudah jatuh itu?”

Ibu tidak mampu memberikan jawaban untuk anaknya. Karena kalau dia bilang ‘tidak’, seperti yang memang dilakukannya, bukankah itu akan terdengar jahat? Tapi kalau dia bilang ‘ada’, padahal dia tidak tahu siapa yang peduli (selain anaknya), bukankah itu akan menjadi sebuah kebohongan? Jadi dia hanya bisa tersenyum.

“Sudah malam, sayang, tidur yuk,” ajak ibu sambil tersenyum hambar, berusaha mengalihkan pembicaraan itu.

“Tunggu, Ma!” hardik si gadis kecil tidak terjebak siasat ibunya. “Apa permohonan mama?”

Ibu tertegun sejenak. Merasa sedikit sesak karena tahu bila permohonan yang dibuatnya diketahui si gadis kecil, anaknya pasti akan sangat kecewa padanya. Bagaimana bisa dia memberitahu anaknya kalau dia baru saja memohon supaya lebih banyak bintang yang jatuh sehingga dia bisa membuat permohonan yang lebih banyak lagi. Bukankah itu akan terdengar sangat ‘egois’ dan ‘tidak berperasaan’? Tentu saja bagi anaknya itu akan tampak seperti tidak peduli betapa banyak korban yang jatuh asalkan impiannya bisa terwujud, dan itu akan terdengar sangat—–kejam, kan?

Jadi dia mengecup pipi anaknya itu dan membisikkan suatu kalimat di telinganya. Kata-kata itu kemudian membuat si gadis kecil tersenyum puas dan melompat turun dari bangku yang dipijaknya. Lalu mereka berdua masuk ke dalam rumah sambil bergandengan tangan.

Tanpa mereka sadari, sebuah bintang jatuh lagi dari langit.

Kali ini warnanya indigo.

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The Potion Of The Apt Option (Part 2 – Ending)

Previous here: https://zoornal.wordpress.com/2011/11/05/the-potion-of-the-apt-option-part-1/

The next day, the eldest son found the sky’s clear. Not even a sign of raining could be seen there. He then happily dried his cottons and thanked his father for the nice weather he had yearned for the previous day. That whole day, smile was painted on his face because joy was what he constantly felt. His cottons had never been any fluffier and stronger, and had higher quality. He could sell them with the highest price, and gained more money to expand his business, or, to buy a present for his father as a thankful gift. So he made up his mind and promised to himself that the next day, he was going to visit his father.

On the other hand, still in the same day, the youngest son found that the sky’s crying. The abundant tears were almost flood his field. But thankfully, his drying yet thirstful crops were in need of a lot amount of water, so nothing bad could happen but a revived field. The youngest danced joyfully after finding out that his crops were back to theirs good condition, moreover, they’re getting better, even, unexpectedly had reached their best condition. Tomatoes were never that red before, watermelons were never that juicy, there must be some kind of miracle from the drop of the rain. He could sell his crops with the highest price due to their qualities. Didn’t forget about the help behind that magical occuring, he then prepared a gift and would bring it to his father, as planned on the next day.

Short to tell, that day then had passed, and that tomorrow had come, and both of the youngest and eldest had arrived at their father’s house at the same time. They got into a short conversation while knocking the door and waiting for their father to come out.

The eldest said, “I came here to give this present to father as he had wished for me such a beautiful weather yesterday. A weather that’s not only had saved my cottons but also my life. And you, my brother, what’s your purpose to come here?”

The youngest chuckled a bit and said, “funny, I came here just exactly for the same reason. Of the beautiful weather father had wished for and for the life he had saved.”

So they knocked the door. Knocked and knocked but no one came. Soon, they began to feel anxious. Thus they broke into the house but found no one. Mr. Whitinger had dissapeared. Nothing was left but a house that’s still arranged neatly. They got no clue where their father had gone. Scarely, they began to ask for his father’s neighbors, friends, and even to their mother who had divorced with their father a long time ago. But no one knew where he was. In distress, they then remembered about the story Mr. Whitinger had told them when they’re little boys.

There is a legendary tree in the forest of knowledge. Its branches are holding the roads to all worlds. It’s leaves are the beds for the foundation that keeps the balance of the living and the death. It has lived longer than any living beings in the universe. The great Yggdrasil is what it is called, and it is believed that it also holds the answers to all things.

Therefore, there was where they went. In short time, because of their knowledge of land terrain and location-finding, they’ve found the Yggdrasil, and not to wait any longer they began to ask it about the presence of their father.

“Where had our father gone, great Yggdrasil? We had lost him without any slighest clue where he could have left for.”

The Yggdrasil neither said nor telepathed a thing, it only shook the earth’s skin, and with one of its root, it pointed to a spesific direction. The same way to where Mr. Whitinger had left for-the hut of the soothsayer-to get the potion of the apt option.

So, just like what Mr. Whithinger had gone through, the two sons also walked into the journey of thorny vines, rocky roads, dark tunnels, and countless more dangerous paths. Their feet bruised. Their sweats had dried to their last drop of exhaustion. But of the will to find and save their father, they gained the power to keep moving and finally arrived at an unknown hut. They didn’t know what it was, but when they saw a lying door, they got no more option but to jump in. After went throught an aberrant transportation, just like what their father had, they found themselves standing in an unfamiliar room, which they don’t know as the soothsayer’s room.

“Welcome to my homey,” was the first thing they got from the owner’s of the room. A young man-not older than 20 years old, they believed-was smiling at them, “what are your matters to find me here, ahh… the sons of Mr. Whitinger?”

“How did you know who we are?” Asked the eldest, trying to hide his stratling.

“I know everything, Ian.” He pointed his finger to the eldest’s nose, “your name.” And move it to the youngest’s, “and also yours, Bigg.” He then turned around, and turned back again, without any exact purpose could be seen from his choose of actions.

“I know that both of you come here to seek for your father. I even had knew it before you planned to come here, or before I knew you would come here to seek for Mr. Whitinger. More, I must say, I had knew it even before i knew i would know that both of you would come here, far before the both of you found the reason of coming here-which is-the gone of your father. And, I had knew it even before Mr. Whitinger came here to find the potion of the apt option, or before he had the reason to find it, which is because of—–the both you.” The soothsayer giggled, grinded, and made a gesture of dancing. Felt excited over the words he said himself and laughed louder when he saw Ian’s and Bigg’s confused faces.

“Wait, so our father had come here? To find that potion of aptitude or something? But for what?” Asked Bigg according to the information he could dechiper.

“Because you asked for the rain,” he suddenly threw powder to Bigg’s face and also to Ian’s before he continued his words, “and he asked for the contrast.”

The sons began to look at each other and started to understand everything. “Oh, no, what have we done? It’s all because of us.” whispered Ian to himself while looking at the floor’s tile that looked like a map of the world.

“Yet it is.” Bigg agreed to his bigger brother. “But, what exactly had happened? Did father drink the potion? What happened after that? Where is he?”

“Ssssh, sssh, hold it, Bigg. I found that you have the same fondness as i have, which is the liking of asking questions, eh, but would you really want to know the answers?”

“Yes, i would.” Ian & Bigg shouted in unison.

“Well, then. Listen and watch carefully.” The soothsayer spread colorful powder into the air and images of Mr. Whitinger’s journey started to appear. “First, yes, he drank the potion of the apt option. He’d dared himself to the consequences i’d told him before for the love he had for both of you. And he turned into-” The image showed how Mr. Whitinger’s body little by little turned into the cloud and flew up above, higher and higher, wider and wider until it really changed into—“the sky.”

“So there he is, up above. Therefore, he could control the weather and by that, he managed to bring rain to his youngest son’s field and keep the sky clear for his oldest son.”

Ian and Bigg couldn’t feel anymore shock than they had at that moment. “Oh no, what should we do now?” They began to ask themselves, but couldn’t find any idea how to solve that problem.

“If there’s just something that can help us to choose for what’s right to do now. If there’s just anything like that existed. I will know what to do.” Said Bigg with great grieve shown on his face.

“There is!” Ian suddenly responded. “There is a thing that can help us!”

“What?” Bigg couldn’t get what his brother’s been talking about.

The potion of the apt option.

“Aaaaah, the potion of the apt option, do you mean-” The soothsayer danced his right palm and its fingers gently, and pooofff-ed, a flask contained with a putrid, pleghm-like elixir appeared from nowhere, “-this?” —– exactly the same event that Mr. Whitinger experienced.

“Wait, brother, you’ve seen what had happened to father after he drank that fishy potion. We don’t know what’ll happen to us.” First, Bigg was against that idea, but then his brother changed it with the words that crushed his heart,

“My brother, father had been very brave to took this potion for us because he love us so much? Won’t we do the same thing for him? Aren’t our loves is as big as his?

Bigg shook his head for the questions that doubted his love for his father, and after that he nodded, to the decision whether he’ll take the same path as his father took or not.

“Then, I and my brother have agreed to this idea. So, please, let us taste the same drink as our father had drunk before, but before, tell us that it will bring us to re-join our father once again.” Ian said to the soothsayer.

“Yes, you’ll be together once again, the three of you. Maybe not in the way you’ve imagined, but yes, you will.”

“That’s all we need to hear.” Said Bigg unhesistantly. Thus, the soothsayer handed the potion to Ian and Bigg. Ian drank the half first, and Bigg drank the rest.

The potion tasted like nothing much different than water. But the reactions were undescribeably strange. Bigg started to cry, he couldn’t stop his tears and Ian gradually started to lost his memories and shrink into his younger self. And after that, a canvas of painting suddenly appeared from nowhere and sucked them in. In that canvas, Bigg still couldn’t stop crying until he turned into the sad, gloomy sea. Ian himself had turned into a litttle boy that keeps looking at his little brother, the sea, and couldn’t stop wondering why it is so sad. In the end, Mr. Whitinger, who is at the moment formed as the sky, also sucked into the canvas. Thus, the three had rejoined in the painting, but unfortunately, not in the way the had ever imagined—–just like what the soothsayer had said before. (More about the painting here: https://zoornal.wordpress.com/2011/11/01/the-boy-the-sea-full-version/)

“What a beautiful painting.” mumbled the soothsayer with a grind on his lips, “I think i know who will love to have this painting.”

THE END.

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The Potion Of The Apt Option (Part 1)

One day, an old man came to the forest of knowledge to find the great Yggdrasil —– the holder of all worlds. The old man was in need of help. He needed someone, or something, or anything to share him the right idea about choosing the right decision. Here was the crux. In that day’s morning, before the dew fell from leaves, both of his sons had come to ask for his prayer. Both came in their own time, but asked for the same-different prayers.

The eldest arrived first, he wanted his father to pray for him. “Dad, please wish for the sky to hold his tears. I need no rain tomorrow, I have to keep my cottons dry. The rain doesn’t suppose to fall tomorrow, and i really mean it should not. But if it does, i’d rather to kill myself by jumping into the sea.”

Of course the old man couldn’t resist and let his son down and said, “yes, my boy, i will wish you the weather you asked for. You need not to taste the salty death in the sea.”

After the leaving of the eldest to his house, the youngest came right in time to aggravate the old man. He asked for a contradictive prayer, but for the same purpose like his bigger brother’s —– a prayer for his own good. “Dad, please wish for the tears of the sky to shed the day after today. I need it to revive my field. My crops are all almost die of drying. The rain must fall, it should. But if it doesn’t, i’d rather to burn myself and turn into ashes.”

As a father, apparantely the old man couldn’t let himself to dissapoint his son, or worse to let him die so he nodded. “Yes, my boy, i will wish you the weather you asked for. You need not to taste hell’s fire before you die.” And then, his son went back to his house. Left the old man confounded to his knees and fingers,

he couldn’t grab the right hint concerning what he should do to keep his promises and to prevent his sons from killing themselves.

“Ygg, please help this hopeless man. Tell me what should I do to save the both of them?” questioned the old man with sad voice and his forehead bowed to kiss the land’s soil, right in front of the Yggdrasil. Thus, touched by the old man’s true love for his sons, the Yggdrasil answered him by telepathing a voice inside the old man’s head.

“I can’t help you to choose for what is right, old man. But I can help you to find who can assist you with your matter and give solution to your cause. Listen carefully, not far from here, lives a great soothsayer, he has invented the potion which can clear the mind and help whoever drinks it to take the right step over the most crucial bent road in life. You can find him by following where my roots lead to. May you find success with your journey, great father.”

After the Yggdrasil finished its last sentence, the old man lost the connection. The giant tree gave no more clue but a little movement from the earth’s skin with its roots which suddenly moved and pointed to the direction of Northeast. There, then the old man took his next course.

His journey ought him to pass through thorny vines, rocky roads, dark tunnels, and countless more dangerous paths. His feet bruised. His sweat had dried to its last drop of exhaustion. But he didn’t stop even once, because he knows the time won’t let the day hold its movement. And he knew he was right, because just in a blink of his blurred eyes, he found the sun almost set, in another second, light had gone and the night had come.

So he hurried, cared not for his own life force, all he knew were he had to find that soothsayer and ask for his potion —– the potion of the apt option.

“I need to save both of my sons.” is his motivation, he repeated those words each time he couldn’t move his feet and each time his body petrified of losing energy. Fortunately, before he really collapsed and passed out of tiredness, he had reached the soothsayer’s hut. It was weird, the walls were constructed from glowing mushrooms that emit thousands of colors that keeps changing by themselves. Its roof was made of papers and leaves, spinning without exact direction like a non-stop hurricane. Its doors and windows were not standing but sleeping on the land, the dimension of the hut was irational. But those bizzarenesses didn’t prevent the old man to find the soothsayer, even though he is hesitant, he then crouched to open the door and jumped into the hut. Magically, after past through an abberant teleportation, he found himself standing in an unfamiliar room which he thought is supposed to be the soothsayer’s room.

“Welcome to my homey,” suprisingly, the old man heard a young man’s voice behind his back. In that instant, he turned his head and found a teenager-not older than 20 years old, he believed-smiling at him. “what is your matter to find me here, Mr. Whitinger?”

“How did you know my name?” The old man tried to hide his stratling.

“I know everything, Mr. Whitinger. That is not something surprising, I even had had known your reason of seeking me to my place here. More, i must say that I had had known that i am going to have had known your problem, before you had it or before i knew i’ll know that i’ll had known it.” The soothsayer giggled a bit. He looked & sounded crazy.

“If you had known all of it even before all of it happen, or before you-yourself knew that you’ll know all of it, why you asked me the question just now?”

“Ahhh, what a rigid old-man. can’t I just have a little fun over there, young man? I have a fondness over asking questions, so please bear with it a little, can you, young man?”

“I beg your pardon, but i am far older than you are, so don’t call me young man, Mr. …” Mr. Whitinger realized he hadn’t known the soothsayer’s name.

“It’s Nameless. Just call me Nameless, or Anonymous. I love those to be put as my name. And, to your knowledge, Mr. Whitinger, about my age… wait, before that, i must ask you a question first, do you know how old is the Yggdrasil?”

Mr. Whitinger tried to calculate but he couldn’t find the right number. So he shook his head.

“That’s too bad, because i think someone just might know my real age.” Mr. Nameless grinded a little, moved in uncertain directions and gave out wacky gestures.

“Excuse me, but are you the Yggdrasil?”

“Is that the matter you want to ask me by coming here, young man?”

“No, it is not.”

“So hold your tounge! Be more polite to someone older than you are!” The Soothsayer suddenly turned angry. Mr. Whitinger could see his hair started to change color into auburn. That signed him to stop asking unnecessary questions.

“Mr. Nameless, i didn’t want to infuriate you, but, about the potion…” Mr. Whitinger timidly spoke after encouraged himself with the thoughts of his sons.

“Aaaaah, the potion of the apt option, do you mean-” The soothsayer danced his right palm and its fingers gently, and pooofff-ed, a flask contained with a putrid, pleghm-like elixir appeared from nowhere, “-this?”

“Yes, it is. Mr. Nameless, i begged you, please, can I have a little drop of it to help me choose for the right decision to solve my bad situation i’m having right now?”

“It depends, young man.”

“Depends on what?”

“On how much you dare to sacrifice yourself. There are unknown side effects to the drinker of this potion, young man?”

“What are they?”

“I don’t know.”

“Didn’t you say you know everything?”

The soothsayer walked closer to Mr. Whitinger and whispered to his left ear with a naughty tone, “what if i don’t want to tell you?”

“I’m fine with that, as long as you can tell me that my sons are going to be alright.” Mr. Whitinger didn’t want to argue with the insane soothsayer’s annoying behavior, he focused himself to the concern of his sons.

“Yes, they will, not that alright, but definitely they’ll cheat the death.”

“That’s all I need to hear.”

“So, ready to sail?” The soothsayer handed the flask to Mr. Whitinger.

“Anything for my sons.” Mr. Whitinger took the flask without a single doubt shown on his face and drank the potion of the apt option to its last drop.

(To Be Continued)

***Note: The part that tells about the sons which asked for the same-different prayers from their father was adapted from a fairy-tale book I read when I was little. I forgot what’s the title of that tale. But, besides that, the other parts were my original idea to expand the story.

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The Pig, The Butcher, and The Crow

Once upon a time, there was a pig. Its color was pinkish, with a very fresh-blushing like a girl’s cheek who just received her first love letter-flesh. It was fat, it was cute, it was an ordinary pig. It loved to oink. It always eats and oinks, plays in the mud and oinks, smiles… and oinks. Just an ordinary oinking-pig.

So that’s why the name ‘Owink’ then was given to it.

Owink is a male pig. Therefore, we should start calling it, subjectively-he, objectively-him, or possesively-his. Owink is a vegetarian, he has never eaten any meat before, or will, or did, or is. No. No. No. Not a chance, not even in any form of tense. Not even in conditional ‘if’ or the most complicated form of any grammatical subject. And i believe it won’t, even when there is a new rule about “The Difference of Using Grammar For Human & Pig.”

 Yes, Owink is a vegetarian. He only eats vegetables and fruits.

One day, Owink’s owner, Mrs. Notsofat, had to go for a long trip to somewhere so far away. Mrs. Notsofat is a widow, without any childern. Her family is pseudo-existed, or let’s make it simple, she has none. It’s dillematic, Mrs. Notsofat couldn’t miss the trip, but she, on the other hand, couldn’t leave Owink all alone when she had gone. It’s trilematic, she also couldn’t let someone else to take care of Owink. Wait, it’s actually tetramatic, she could, but she couldn’t let herself to think that she could let someone else to take care of Owink. Confusingly, she multi-dilemized herself, with the twisting ideas in her old brain, Mrs. Notsofat tragically made a decision to let a butcher to take care of Owink while she was gone.

“Yes, i”ll take care of him like my own son, Mam.” Said the butcher with a grin accesorized on his incorrigible face.

So then Mrs. Notsofat went off, still with an entangled logic between her very old brain and mind. She even forgot to give Owink a message of her leaving. Then she went off, crossing a river full of powder, crawling through the tunnel of fireflies and gone. No one knew when she’ll be back. Not even Mrs. Notsofat herself.

“Where have you gone, Mam?” Questioned Owink after he figured out that his owner has gone away.

Owink tried to follow his owner. But he couldn’t find the path Mrs. Notsofat went to. The mist of the evaporated powder in the river blurred his eyes. The fireflies in the tunnel dazzled his vision. She had gone. He had to let her go. Now, Owink has to make up a way to escape from the butcher. Then, Owink tried to decieve Mr. Meatmuncher, the butcher, with his cunning words.

“Mr. Meatmuncher, i have never eaten any meat since i was born. I only eat veggies. Come to think about it, i consist of no meat, then i am not a meat, right?” Convinced Owink with a trembling voice.

Fortunately, Mr. Meatmuncher’s brain is not as sharp as his knife. He believed in Owink’s manipulation just like that. So, he walked away from Owink’s presence, he was dumbfounded, ‘what’s the joy of butchering a pig that had become a plant?” Mumbled Mr. Meatmuncher to himself. Owink couldn’t feel anymore relieved after he knew that his plan had worked out well, better than how he expected it to be. But, on the next day, Mr. Meatmuncher came back to find Owink after he discovered a very great idea (according to himself) about how to solve that-the pig that had become a plant-problem. He got that idea from his last night dream about a radish that turned into a meat by eating a chicken.

“Bonanza! Bonanza! Starting from now, i am going to feed you with meat, a lot of them! I’ll turn you into a hog, you vegetabilized pig!” And Mr. Meatmuncher bursted out a terrorizing laughter.

Then, Mr. Meatmuncher threw out a bag full of meats toward Owink’s nose. “I’ll be back in a week, and i hope you have turned yourself back  into a meat by that time.” Said Mr. Meatmuncher with his point finger arrowing to Owink’s eyes. Then he made his leaving and abandoned Owink depressed with his own trouble, alone (wait), i mean together ————– with the meat.

“What should i do? What should i do? I can’t eat the meat. Owink couldn’t find anymore way to save himself from that carnivoric issue. He could only oink and cry.

By the time when the sun almost set and the sky changed its color into an orang-ish purple, a crow invited by the smell of the meats stopped by from its flight to nowhere and paid a visit. There, the crow not only found the meats in the bag, but also a crying pig-a fat, cute pig-oinking in his own tears. The crow moved closer to the crying pig and asked him a question, or two.

“Hi, little piggy, why you looked so sad? I see you have an abundant foodstock here, hmmm… a lot of meats. So, why are you being sad about?” kaaak-kaaaked the crow.

Just realizing the crow’s exsitence when it kaaak-kaaaked beside his right ear, Owink stratled out and almost swallowed his own heart that jumped to his throat. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, piggy. I maybe black in color, but it doesn’t mean i’m bad.” Kaaak-kaaaked the crow with a husky voice.

“Who… who are you? Your theme is so dark, are you the death? Am I dead already?” Suffered from the sadness and starvation of not eating anything, Owink thought he’s hallucinating when he saw the kaaak-kaaaking crow.

“haaak-haaak-haaak… silly-silly piggy. Son, i might look baneful but i’m not a villain, dear silly piggy.” calmed the crow while flapping its wings. “So why are you here?” Asked Owink with curiosity. “Those hellish-scented meats invited me here, dear.” Answered the crow.

“But, accidentally, i found something more interesting than those meats. It’s you! A crying pig! And now, could you please tell me what burdens you, dear little piggy?” Croaked the crow.

To make it short, Owink told the crow what had happened since Mrs. Notsofat left him. More tears water-fell from his eyes while his snout and jowl were dancing along with his tale. At that instant, touched by the tragedy that happened to Owink, the crow intrigued a plan to help the pig in distress.

“Don’t worry, dear. I’ll come here twice a day, once in the morning and once in the night. I’ll bring you your veggies so you won’t starve to death.” Said the crow.

“Oh, how kind of you, crow-” Owink almost thanked the crow before it cut the words coming out from his mouth. “Don’t call me ‘crow’, dear. Call me Croackina. Lady Croackina.” Said the crow, Lady Croackina, therefore we should start calling it, subjectively-she, objectively-her, or possesively-her(s). “Okay, Lady Croackina, i just wanted to show my gratitude, what can i do to pay your kindness?”

“Dear, little piggy, here’s the deal, i’ll bring you veggies, but you’ll have to let me take those meats. What do you think?”

Owink nodded without any hesistation, so, everyday after Lady  Croackina’s arrival, she will come to bring Owink his veggies. Once in  the morning and once in the night. And she will take a meat with her  when she finished her job. Everything went well, and a week flew  quickly. Owink had survived from starvation-thanks to Lady Croackina-but  he wouldn’t be so lucky after Mr. Meatmuncher found out that the meat he  had given to Owink had gone, he’d think that Owink had eaten them all  and he had once again turned into a meat. And the bad news is, Mr. Meatmuncher will come in no minute since today is the day he promised about his comeback.

“Don’t worry, dear silly piggy.”

Suddenly, a husky voice run through the air. It sounded familiar to Owink. It’s Lady Croackina! Apparantely, she came to Owink’s rescue. And she wasn’t alone. The sky became dark as she flew above Owink’s head. Black feathers danced everywhere. She brought her friends with her, they came from everywhere. So, when Mr. Meatmuncher came to butcher Owink, the darkened sky attacked him ferociously with croaks and husky voices. Therefore, Mr. Meatmuncher ran away in fear and never came back again. Lady Croackina and her friends had saved Owink, and the news about the darkened sky above Mrs. Notsofat’s farm spread rapidly. Reached to Mrs. Notsofat’s ears in no time, and it made her come back to find Owink-her ordinary oinking pig-although, he was out from nowhere, instantly. So in the end, Owink reunited with Mrs. Notsofat, her owner. And, Lady Croackina became their new family member. She sometimes comes to take some meats away or bring some veggies for Owink.

Owink and Croackina would oink-oink and kaaak-kaaak together,

usually, once in the morning, and once in the night.

And they lived happily ever after…

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