Please Change my Destiny!
Other Spirit

"You can pick up your wife, she's still your wife."

One sentence that would be an encouragement to Dihyan.

At least there are people who support him, when everyone is not on his side.

But at this time, He still can not do anything, the existence of Rima has not been sniffed.

He wants to calm down first, away from work and the hustle and bustle of the city that sometimes makes the chest feel tight.

Spend some time in this large village. Maybe until his lungs are clean from the pollution he had breathed in the city.

I left work for a different reason.

"Bang, go find dong's clothes!" He said to Brother when he had just arrived in front of the shophouse owned by father.

The man who was accosted momentarily glanced at the clock that was coiling in his hand then looked at Dihyan.

It had been the afternoon, how long had they been in the mosque to hear Dihyan's confession?

The pitiful man, who was still trying to show a calm look.

"To the market, it's tonight." Bargainly.

Dihyan from the city, at least the man must have made the mall as a place to look for his needs.

Unlike them, the traditional market will be the closest, most complete, fastest, cheapest and most affordable alternative ....

"Yes, papa."

As fast as lightning Brother returned to take the motorbike, a moment's farewell to his beloved wife. Afraid that woman will miss.

"Wear Bang's helmet? Is it far away?" Dihyan asked as he received the round head protection object.

The situation of the village road that is rarely passed by the police, makes some residents ignore the traffic rules. Including using a helmet when riding a motorcycle.

"No papa, wear it, nothing to lose!" Elder brother.

A handsome man with a tall strapping body described his profession.

Using his motorcycle, they left the house.

Back when it was getting dark, soon I saw adzan maghrib again heard.

" Asalamualaikum!" Shortly after the brother parked the motorbike in the yard, no need to be brought in because soon they will use it back to the mosque.

"Where's dyhyan?" Ask dad when he sees you at home alone, with a frown. What would it be like to leave that city man unattended.

"There was. In the back." While removing the helmet when just getting off the bike.

A few bags of crackle he had placed on the terrace, it was Diyan groceries.

He turned around to wait for Dihyan to arrive.

Dad immediately stepped closer to the highway, trying to find his nephew who was from that city.

Not long after, a motorbike matic re-entered the yard of the house, parking right next to the motorcycle brother.

Dad was stunned when the rider opened his helmet and his new jacket, Dihyan.

The man had just arrived on a new motorcycle.

I looked back, looking at my brother as if asking for an explanation. Where did Dihyan get the motor from?

While being stared at chuckled alone, "Different is indeed a rich man." It's with a head shake.

Obviously different, when they have to calculate the coffers first before buying something like a motorcycle that counted luxury goods.

While Dihyan, just a day was willing to spend money just to buy a motorcycle. His car was parked in front of my house. Ckckckc was extravagant he thought.

But let it be, maybe that's how Dihyan comforts himself.

What is used to buy a motorcycle is not the money either.

No need to wait long, now Diyan and her new bike have been surrounded by other family members.

Mother, grandmother, and one more of father's youngest daughters.

"Waaaah, new bike?" Awe from behind, mother.

"You bought Yan? Make what?" Grandma also .

"But not papa either. Cool, cool." Mother approached also stroked the red white-plated NMAN motor.

"Cash?" Ask again with sparkling eyes.

Dihyan nodded, with a smile, lashing out at the notched saddle.

Motorcycle is not a difficult item he got, but got the attention of all people like this, for some reason there is a sense of pride in themselves.

Like winning something.

Show-off? I don't know!

"Obviously, the rich are wasting money." He said while taking over the task of carrying.

Leaving a trace of affection on the wife's forehead.

Back to look at the crowd of new motorcycles, whether since when his eldest son was on the bike while prancing around, laughing.

"You want to go for a walk?" Dihyan was aimed at the boy.

"Take care of." Prancing happily. Tos hard with uncle.

"I'm coming! I'm coming! I'm coming too!" The voice of the second boy was very loud, with full power running closer to the new motor after throwing his bike just like that. Afraid of being left behind by her brother.

"Udah wants to magrib Yan. Tomorrow's the walk." Dad tried to rebuke.

But the euphoria of the new motor seems to be delayed.

Both of his grandchildren have mastered the bike, it is difficult to persuade let alone the smile of the three people who have been ready on the bike can not be ignored.

"Sister, I'm also ikuuuutt." The sound from behind was no less loud.

"Shita, want magrib."

"Oh yeah, can ya?" Pinta the youngest child. A second later he had been sitting in the back seat, "Here deck!" Hands wagging toward brother, precisely at his youngest nephew. Making the three-year-old boy also spread his hands hoping in reach.

The audience was only able to shake their heads while smiling at the sight of two adults who were now collaborating with three boys on one motorcycle.

With Dihyan. A smile indicates that this man is happy.

"It's not long, yeah." Shouted Dihyan before the motorbike properly left the grounds of the house.

The motor is moving very slowly. Some of the passengers were underage, Dihyan did not want to be nagged by the commander after returning home.

"Sister, turn left" The girl sitting in the back, "There's a night market there."

"You're going to the night market?"

"Yes, brother, during the night market open I have never come." Said with pursed lips.

The father's position is too big, balanced by the care of a brother who is no less strict.

Girls can't come out if no one's accompanying. And now there is Dihyan, a male cousin who can be used as a shield later when he arrived at home.

"We pray Magrib first!" Dihyan pulled over the motorbike in the courtyard of the village mosque they were passing through.

The motor again drove following the instructions of the girl in the boncer.

"So don't bring this, Dad." Hand over the smallest boy to DIhyan.

The foot had just landed on the side of the road, in front of which was a field that had been transformed into a night market.

Taking care of a smaller child must be more fragile. Let the more mature ones take care of it.

The girl will have fun with her other two nieces.

That night, the eyes were glazed with flickering lights. A wide variety of challenging games for

Light to heavy snacks seresa poking the stomach that began to empty.

No need to worry, his Dihyan sack must be thick.

Coming home with a full stomach, Sate goat on the roadside became their dinner menu.

Some snacks they also enjoyed.

Several balloons floated, each with a different shape and color according to the number of boys on the bike. Do not forget the cotton candy is the same as the number of children.

Tinnn.

Tinnn.

Tinnn.

The sound of a motor horn while the others are preparing for sleep.

"Oh my goodness" the mother immediately opened the door. The feeling of being anxious while waiting for those who he said for a moment.

"And you said cum,...."

"Mother, please help this!" Stopping mom's nagging, showing the boys drooping on the bike.

"Peals." Again, he complained, from earlier held two bodies to remain stable on the motor.

Not to mention the innate that he thought was unimportant.

That night, Dihyan with his own pleasure, as if cleaning a heart wrapped in gray clouds.

Leaving it to one other warmth. Although tired of following the will of the boys, but his heart felt happy and warmed.

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