MOONEYE

There was a boy,MIZAN who was so simple he even went to any occasions wearing just jeans and loose tee with dark coloured flip-flop.  He was like five foot nine, everyone said he should go playing basketball or volleyball rather than just sat on the chair moving and rubbing the knights and the queen on the white and black checked board.  He always been the first to get in classes and left none of his box in the attendance list unmarked.  He was an A student, and no one had ever called him Aleck.  Some said, he never knew any alphabets except the letter A, and he never knew that people can write or doodled “x” marks on examination papers or assignments or quizzes.  He was fair, but recently he is getting darker. He got really nice eyes, the Caucasians eyes, his nasal bone was obvious, but less obvious then Rowan Atkinson, his forehead was very clean, very alike to Johnny Deep’s forehead, his jaw was very nice, just like the Ferrari F430 bumper and his cheek, even not so chubby, the dimples were very obvious.

Every evening, whether it was at Cherating or Gambang, he walked, to appreciate nature around him, and to sip every tiny bit of fresh air into his crippling lungs to enable him pumping more precious bloods with more treasurable oxygen. But no one knew that he had TB, Congenital heart disease and asthma. That’s why he keep leaving perfect footprints on the sandy beach, though they were a bit over pronated, it still perfect on the sand, and perfect on the runway.   

He's from Cherating, lives just near the shore, where the sky was so bright at night in November he could see Orion Belt.  He used to lay on the beach, or maybe at the balcony when the weather is under the weather.  The balcony was nicely arranged with tulips and lilies, with a lazy chair facing the shore. There, when the sun just about to be going into the ocean, or into the earth, the wind could automatically help him turning the page he read to another.  The people on that village, `Kampung Sepakat Jaya’ have a very light hand, though some of them very muscular and vastly fitted tees they wore.  None of them ever keep their hand down to others, either to outsiders or insiders.

Generations to generations, everything is going well in `Kampung Sepakat Jaya’, although many pillars with ropes were now there, although people talked through boxes and some plywood-like things, and even many of them got the things people used to share their thought, their info, status, to find old-missing friends, and to post picture or moving picture, there still having occasions with teenagers bringing food in salver, which not made from silver, and some still throwing a stone to the air, grab one on the floor and catch one in the air before it falls, and the kite still flying high and the tops spinning like it will never going to stop.  Mizan, he never missed those things, he played those things and he knew every single thing very well.

But then, the moon started to …………….(to be continue)