Page 137 - B. Ing_Antologi Cerpen Xl-6
P. 137
Not far from where she sat, a tall man in casual
clothes stood with a cold drink in his right hand. His gaze
had been fixed on the peaceful figure of the woman, eyes
closed, resting on the bench. Something—an
unexplainable pull—compelled him to approach her.
Gently, with care, he tried to wake her.
“Excuse me, Miss, are you alright?”
The woman instantly opened her eyes, slightly
startled by the presence of a man standing before her.
“Ah… Yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry if I looked a little
off, Sir,” she replied. Their eyes met. The scent of
jasmine wafted to the man’s nose, stirring fragments of
memories hidden deep in his mind. That voice—soft and
familiar—and her gentle appearance triggered
something.
Who is she? he wondered silently.
“Excuse me, Sir, is there something you wanted
to talk about?” her question snapped him out of his
thoughts.
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