The nameless

I think there’s a hole inside me. I’m missing something. There is something I missed. I miss. I miss 245 Restaurant. I miss The chef. I miss the question, ‘’how’s my cook?’’. I miss to say, ‘’thank you for the dish’’, ‘’thank you for cooking’’, and I miss to talk to The chef. I miss the time to sit and chatter with The chef. I miss all the tips from The chef about friends and living skills.

I miss The creator, The drawer of this sketch. I miss the voice of The Sketcher. I miss The sketcher’s laugh and jokes. I miss the meeting The sketcher’s and The chef always make.

I miss the time they make plan for us on holiday. I miss the assignment the sketcher always give, even though I always fail to attempt. I miss all The sketcher’s tazkirah. I miss The sketcher’s advices and tips about seniors and academics and live. I miss their motivational talks towards us, The Piranha Club. I miss the time all of us spent together.

I hope my journey with The Fly and The Time will help me with The Return. And with this, I hope The Through will help me and The Sweet to make The Dream and and The Song happy with The Sweet. And thanks to The Hope, everything will be fine with the help of The Create.