Saying Goodbye Sucks

My last bunch of Pisang Ambon, Ambon bananas, from the grinning old man at Pasar Minngu, he and his harvest sitting under a blue tarp where I catch the bus to go back to Depok. My last goodbye with Endri and Imam after a last long night of chatting and tea on the floor of their simple apartment, last wrestling match with little Faiz, my last bakso kampung as we ran out to catch the man pushing his cart by late at night, eating the warm soup with pleasure after the passing of the chilly night rain.

Now back on Jalan Margonda, my last Sunday afternoon at the internet cafe. Time to go home and do the packing of bags that should, I suppose, be done before I walk out the door of my kos, for good.

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