Words & Writings

Promise Me Then

Promise me we will go to see the geyser, stay for a while, and you will name your son Harrison.

Promise me I will have no worry about consuming sugar, drawing on the wall, missing my high-school friends, owning more camera, or running a little vintage bookshop.

Promise me you will graduate, and when I do, you’d clap the loudest, and wait for me with the cliché; bouquet of flowers. You would smile, so would the flower seller. Then the pavements would surely be full.

Promise me then.

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Puty Puar. F/27. Indonesian. Former rocker, blogger, freelance illustrator, book enthusiast, who is running little business while homemaking. Started this blog in 2002.