We bump into each other at the Y junction nearby. She hides half of her face with a piece of cloth, murmuring,”I hate sunlight.”
“Why?” I am thinking why she brings out this matter out of the blue.
“Because my skin is too sensitive…”
Another thing she wants to avoid is dust. “I’m allergic to dust.” She might be as well work at home rather than going out like this.
And she keeps on complaining on how fucked up the atmosphere of Jakarta has become. Isn’t that news?
She seems to be suffering a lot lately. The temperature is reaching the peak at 34 degrees centigrade and I bet she wouldn’t feel OK with all this.
As our conversation proceeds and we get into the lift, she mentions about why I keep it for myself and should get a help instead from someone I know will not provide help at all. I laugh at the proposition. No way. I say, there’s no way the person would provide assistance and I never want to be so much indebted to anyone else in terms of my career advancement.
She leans on the wall and adds,”Never stop dreaming.” Because she is now thinking of realizing her dreams as well.
Good luck with your future endeavor, I say by heart. And of course, mine.