jurnal tentang aku dan orang-orang sekitar
My eyes went back to those waste workers. Some of them were busy unloading, lifting and pushing the waste, while Sobri seemed engrossed in conversation with someone wearing a shirt. I did not know what they were talking about. Maybe they discussed the waste, or maybe something else.
That bridge still stayed silent on its place, waiting for a more serious repair. I didn’t know which government that would repair it because of its existence which was between two government territories. However, all this time, the inhabitants had been the ones who had done their utmost because they…