the crossroad is not something romantic, if it was so modern and crowded by loud vehicles, people and passerby walked very fast and crossed the road heading to wherever their destination are.
we are in the car; me, my best friend, my best friend's brother, and we looked outside. i remembered the atmosphere was light, pink-tinted, glossy (not foggy), like being drowned in a mixture of strawberry vodka and (too much) water.
my best friend's brother said, "it's two years ago."
i don't ask the meaning behind his funny exclamation of time. i noted that somehow, we were visiting a two years ago moments from someone's memory. but if it's the memory of someone other than ourselves, then the someone must have...
"it's her! it's her!" ... passed (i completed my thought). my bestfriend pointed towards a point outside the car. I saw my other bestfriend, seemed so happy and childlike, laughing beside someone. muscular back, masculine posture. i think it's someone special. someone special for my other best friend, i mean.
"how did we get there?" i asked. "it's a memory of her!"
i giggled. it feels like pensieve in Harry Potter's book.
"do you think about her?" i asked my best friend's brother. perhaps we're ended up here because my best friend's brother.
"huh?" my best friend's brother seemed clueless, but more like implying how-do-you-know question.
"she seemed very happy," i concluded.
I don't remember the aftermath, just my other best friend walked and walked, until she's very far I could not see her anymore.
I woke up again.
how a happy memory can be very sad, with this pink-tinted nuances like a burnt dawn, signaling the end of the more-happy time?
p.s: i asked my best friend. she's completely fine. she asked if I missed her. I missed her and our memory in our happy town
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