A Paper on the bushes

A Paper on the bushes

By Rugyinsun

            The wind blew softly, touching my skin, feeling me to the previous time when I had been in Seranding hill. The sun was shining, laughing up to the world. The beautiful birds were singing and flying around over the trees. An old man I met there. He was looking for fire-wood.

            He smiled up to me. I saw some lines on his face. He asked me, “What are you doing here?”

            I smiled up to him. “Nothing, Grandpa. I’m just walking around enjoying the beautiful views.”

            “By the way, where are you from?”

            “I’m from Randu Cangkring.”

            “Ow. If you want, I asked you to my home, isn’t far from here.”

            “Mmmm… Ok.”

            I followed him to his house. It was a simple house. He stayed with his wife.

            “Please come in,” she smiled up to me.

            No other there, only both they. I sat on the chair was made by bamboo. Then we talked much about. She told me about their life. They didn’t have child, didn’t have field or garden. Their income was only from selling fire-wood which they take from Seranding Hill.

              Wondering if they are forbidden to take wood there again?