Page 22 - B. Ing_Antologi Cerpen Xl-6
P. 22
"Son, let's go home! it's hot out here, hon," from a
distance a familiar voice was heard in his ears.
The child stopped his hand. His head turned to
look for the source of the sound. At the edge of the park
he saw his mother standing with one of her hands
waving, and the other carrying a small bag. he was silent,
sweat slowly flowing down his temples, his eyes glanced
at his unfinished palace. he got up slowly, clapped his
hands, dropping the remaining sand that was still stuck
between his fingers. Then he jogged while laughing,
approaching his mother who took out a small towel.
When he arrived in front of her, the little boy
looked up, raised both his hands towards his mother, his
eyes begging with hope.
The mother laughed, bent down, then lifted the
tiny body with sand still stuck to his clothes into her
arms.
"Oh, my dearest little child..."
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