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Bakul bakwan mati…


Enak-enak turu tengah wengi, anake cak Srondhol nuangis koyok wong kewedhen.
“Aku ngimpi mbah Kakung mati …” jare anake.
“Wis gathik mewek, turuo maneh, iku ngono mek ngimpi” jare cak Srondhol.
Isuke onok interlokal ngabari lek Bapake Cak Srondhol kenek serangan jantung,
mati.
Minggu ngarepe, anake nangis maneh tengah wengi.
“Aku ngimpi mbah Putri mati….” jare anake.
“Wis tha percoyo aku, iku ngono mek ngimpi, age ndhang turuo maneh” jare cak Srondhol.
Menene onok interlokal maneh lek ibuke cak Srondhol tibo kepleset ndhik jedhing, mati pisan.
Mari pitung dhinone ibuke, anake nangis maneh tengah wengi.
“Aku mimpi bapakku mati… ” jare anake.
“Koen ojok percoyo ambek ngimpi, wis kono turuo maneh” jare cak Srondhol.
Mari anake turu maneh, genti cak Srondhol sing gak isok turu.
Ketap-ketip, pucet kewedhen dhewe, pas temenan aku kate mati pikire.
Isuke bojone cak Srondhol genti sing nangis berok-berok.
“Opoko koen iku isuk-isuk wis mbrebes mili ?” jare cak Srondhol.
“Iku lho Cak…. bakul bakwan langgananku mati….”

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