Page 105 - B. Ing_Antologi Cerpen Xl-6
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could understand one another and fill the emptiness they
both carried.
From afar, a girl in a dusty pink dress stepped
into a café, scanning the room for the one she came to
meet.
“Elora, over here!” called Alana, waving.
Hearing her name, Elora turned toward the voice
and saw Alana—alongside a guy she didn’t recognize.
Who is that? she wondered as she made her way
to the table.
“Hey, sorry I’m late. Traffic was crazy,” Elora
said with an apologetic smile.
“No worries! By the way, this is my
friend—Arga,” Alana introduced.
“Hi, I’m Elora,” she greeted shyly.
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