Creative Writings Flash Fiction

On a Train to Heaven

On his way to Shinto, a little boy looks at the window. “It’s a beautiful night with a starry sky” he whispers slowly. “Yes darling, the moon smiles so brightly tonight,”  a woman replies while seeing a rainbow.

One fine day, he learns about the anecdote. The young man feels no need to gloat, so he gets bored. His mom flips the pages and shows him a picture. “Look, I’ve told you red suits well,” he compliments that amazing coat.  “Yes darling, this is an amazing red coat” she replies while seeing the blue one.

Some men are checking if she is doing well, as she is all alone. I step closer and ask them not to bother that woman. They could not see what I saw.

“Mom, I’ll touch the sky to feel the wind. I’ll put the glasses off just to see the sunshine. I’ll take my clothes off just to be washed by the rain. I just wanna be seen and see, I wanna be touched and feel.” It’s midnight already, and I heard the young man cry.

Ah, now I know what dreams can be shown to him.  Dream without eyes. Dream without sight.  His dream is just imagination.  At least, it is what a dream is called to a blind young man.

“Son, I’ll run over without slippers to meet you on the other side of the world.  I’ll climb the highest building just to see you in person. And I’ll swim the deepest ocean if I can hug you there. I just miss you, a lot.” Still in the middle of the night, and I heard the woman cry.

Ah, now I know what dream can be shown to her. A dream that isn’t limited to death. A dream that overcomes fear. Her dream is just imagination. But at least, it is what dream is called to a mom who has lost his only boy.

That night, I sat by her side and held her hands.  I stared at her and her eyes met mine. I saw through her heart. It’s dark, full of condolences.  She got a boy who is blind and short, so she told me, “It’s better so”. And I replied, “That’s okay, I already knew.”

She didn’t even have to ask whether I saw him or not.  One thing she’s being sure of is, I got to know her in the world of silence. “Yes, I can see your past, also dead,” she cried as I told her.

I took that book from her, opened another page, and read something there, “It’s never been an easy path to live if you can’t let your past go. I would say that your life is trapped, and day by day your scars are getting worse. You blame yourself for your loss, and that’s why you can’t go through it. You can’t make it to the present without doubting yourself.”

“Do I have any right to live happily? Ah, no. Do I even have any right to be alive? To live in this universe?” I could see such questions in her mind, so I told her, “You have felt guilty enough.”

“It’s never been an easy path to live if you can’t choose between the present or the past. Your lovely ones were there in the past. But you are now fighting alone in this cruel present. I understand if it’s never been an easy way to cross. But don’t live in the past. Your life has no meaning when you keep thinking about the past. Your spirit is gone because you can’t put the past behind. It is stopping you from living as your heart wants.” I continued.

“I know you are hurt. And you are hurt, that’s why you feel alive. I know it’s torturing but that’s when you feel alive the most. I know. But another thing I know that you don’t is that you lived by millions of little miracles. While God took your son from an accident, you survived, and you’re doing well. Count that million little miracles and you will understand. Why does God keep pouring you with His love? You live because you’ve been carried by grace.”

As I finished my words, she wiped the tears on her face and stopped crying. I stopped the train later while giving her that dream, a happy day in a wonderland with her little boy. It’s the only way that she can get off the train without being buried in guiltiness. 

That’s how I ask humans to go back when it’s not their time. They aren’t being called home yet. That’s why she should make that decision and leave the train. She won’t be accepted at heaven’s gate though. She is supposed to go back, and happily live her life in the present.

The end.

Author : Fernisya Abellya / 214214025

Editor: Fransiskus Nino, Cynthia Olga Handoko (QC)

Illustrator: Maria Angelica Chrysanti

Creative Writings Poem

The Corner of December

Here I come to the corner of December

With hope in every step that brought me closer

Existing in this huge universe

Doesn’t always attract everything for which I think I deserve

Little irreplaceable things keep me alive

Arranging every moment like an archive

From capturing the scenery of evening skies

To seeing the loved ones feel the delights

Those little things turn into a sincere reason

to exist longer all of a sudden


Author : Ruth Maura Pamesa Nurmalita / 204214033

Editor: Desca Geovani Kristi, Cherry Larissa Hendranata (QC)

Illustrator: Bedita Marsela

Creative Writings Flash Fiction

Rosa Mystica

Shuvarnabumi Airport, Wednesday 27 September 2021, 19.47 Bangkok Time.
It was rainy outside. The lights outside were glowing, not bright, subdued by the heavy water directly fell from the dark sky. The airport deserted. Only few people were there. Pandemic had crushed the airline business to its core. I remembered two years ago when I visited this country, when the pandemic hadn’t ravaged the world, the Shuvarnabhumi was one of the busiest airport in the world. Bangkok was one of Asia’s travel hub, connecting the world with Asia’s cities.

I looked around, and my eyes stumbled upon a girl sitting in Starbuck cafe, her eyes glued to her cellphone, a plastic cup of coffee on the table. It’s already half-empty. Or, half full. That’s a matter of perspective. The distance between where I sat and Starbuck was not very far. Around 200 meter. I looked at my watch. 19.50 Bangkok time. I looked up, and to my surprise, the girl was now looking at me. I was taken aback. Never did I expect that she was also staring at me. Perhaps she also tried to find other fellow human beings in this deserted airport.

I was not sure whether I should nod and smile, or just looked away. I nodded. And smiled. She smiled back. The girl wore a denim jacket and trousers with a pair of black heels. Her hair was shiny black, which she ponytailed. I approached her.
“Is the seat taken?”
“ Please,” she drew her plastice cup nearer to her.
“Thank you,” I replied. “Waiting for someone?”
“Yes, he should arrive at any moment now.”
He. Male. So, perhaps she’s waiting for her boyfriend or her husband. Boyfriend, I guessed. She’s just in her early 30s, I estimated. Nobody in their right mind would marry in 30s. It’s too young. Marriage was something serious. It took a lot of considerations and thoughts to get married. 30 was too early.
“Your boyfriend?”
“No! I am waiting for my father. He promised me to see me in Bangkok. We haven’t met for almost ten years.”
“Oh, where is he from?”
“Jakarta, Indonesia.”
“The plane from Jakarta has landed several minutes ago. I am from Jakarta, too. He must’ve been here.”
“Yes, I know. That’s why I am here.”
“So, he will meet you here?”
“Yes, Dad. I’m your daughter. Don’t you recognize me?”
I was silent. I looked at her again. Closely. I saw her rosary necklace around her neck. A rosary necklace I specially made for her with Rosa Mystica inscription engraved on its crucifix pendant. Yes, she’s my daughter. My daughter who died ten years ago in a traffic accident in Bangkok on her way to college, just a week before her birthday on which I promised to see her. An eerie realization suddenly engulfed me. I heard a commotion nearby and saw four paramedics in a hurry pushed a cart with a man lying there. I overheard some airline crew members described what happened during the flight to the paramedics. “He’s got a heart attack on the plane, we have tried CPR, but….”
I looked at the girl. She smiled, “Come, Dad! I missed you so much!”
She took my hand, and we walked out of the Shuvarnabumi Airport into the heavy rain.

Author: Harris Hermansyah Setiajid 


Illustrator: Betsy Mariana Agoha

Features Music Review

“The Loner” Representation from Rest by Yerin Baek

It was the end of November 2020. I was so full of thoughts back then, and I chose to calm myself by scrolling Spotify discovery. Until my eyes met a song titled Rest, “I think this song can represent what I thought right now,” I said in my own mind. I listened to it, and at that time, my nerves instantly gave a signal to relax all my body and mind, then take a deep breath after what I’ve been through. 

Rest is the second track out of 18 tracks from the “Every Letter I Sent You” album by Yerin Baek, a South Korean female singer-songwriter. The album “Every Letter I Sent You” is the first Yerin Baek’s studio album under Blue Vinyl Record after leaving JYP Entertainment in September 2019. The album was released on December 10, 2019, with the double title track Popo (How Deep Is Our Love) and Square (2017). Rest has been streamed 3 million times on Spotify, while the official lyric video has been played 640 thousand times on YouTube. 

Yerin’s beautiful delivery places a warm tone to the listener’s ears and heart. Her husky-but-soft voice is mixed perfectly with the instruments. It breaks all the tiresome feelings, both physically and mentally. The song directly starts with Yerin’s voice, followed by the warm Rhodes piano. As the song gets in the chorus, the guitar tone comes along. Yerin puts simple drums, string, flute, and brass in the second verse to make the sound richer but minimalistic. The song was written and produced by Yerin. As it comes from her very first album, Yerin wanted to give intimacy through her songs. The title itself is named “Every Letter I Sent You,” so the delivery looks like many letters given to someone. “Rest” talks about someone who wants to rest after a long tiring day. “I wanna be somewhere like no need to be clear / No need to be explaining / I just wanna rest,” she sings. The song unfolds a wish of someone tired of their business every single word and activity, “I” just want to rest, that’s all. 

The narration in this song represents the discussion about some people who enjoy their quality time only on their own. Some people just love to spend their time alone, and it is fine. It doesn’t mean they are lonely. “Everybody’s asking if I got plans for the night / But sure, I know they don’t really wonder / And I’m sure I’ll be home alone / I’ma rent some classic movies on the way back home,” that is the message delivered from the lyrics. Yerin wants to share the feeling that spending your time alone is normal, nothing odd about it.  A lot of people also do that. Rejecting an invitation so you can spend your time alone on the fluffy couch is the best way to rest too.

Author: Juhandi Dwi Putra Lyana / 1842141178

Editor: Arih Oviana Putri Kusuma, Fransiskus Nino Boby Laksono (QC)

Lecturer's Corner

Temple Photography

I am in love with temples or historical sites. To me, getting close to them makes me feel content. Being content also entails another beauty that eyes could enjoy, i.e. pictures. Temple photography is challenging yet engaging. Temples here do not necessarily mean the very big tall buildings. They could also mean ruins of historical sites. For people being in love with both photography and historical sites, temple photography could be an option to accommodate and blend the two.

There are challenging things, do’s and don’ts, and other matters when we want to explore temple photography. So as other streams in photography, temple photography is challenging in nature in a way that it requires the photographer to play with the light, the buildings, the weather, and the rules in the sites for sure.

Temple photography always seeks light in its best place to capture. The best pictures are always taken in their best moment. The best moment is in the morning right before the sunrise to 8 o’clock. The afternoon shot starts at 3.30 PM to the arrival of the sunset light. The other perfect time for shooting is shortly after the rain where the puddle reflects the buildings for magical shots.

The light does not come alone since it has to be there with the buildings to shot. There are angles where we can shoot the buildings from. Before shooting, we need to somehow figure out the building’s shape, colour, and size. This then determines perspectives and types of shot.

Temples are mostly made of limestone, andesite, red brick, and sometimes marble. Therefore, we have to be really careful in dealing with those ancient buildings. The way we touch, walk, stand, and shoot needs to again reconsider the age of the buildings. There are codes of conduct to obey. We’re not allowed to take pictures of certain statues and sanctum sanctorum or in Sanskrit it is called the garbhagriha. This innermost sanctuary is only meant for worshipping. Thus, photography is not allowed at all.

Temple photography enables me to meditate for the very calm surroundings and atmosphere. It also allows me to do some yoga under a tree. I do believe, after all, that temples are my very start for calm heart and mind and wonderful journey to study history. Besides, it also becomes my vehicle to always improve my shooting skill for perfecting the pictures for wider audience. In September 2018, some of my temple pictures were exhibited by Taman Wisata Candi (TWC), a state-owned enterprise or BUMN in charge of managing Borobudur, Prambanan, and Ratu Boko.


By: Scolastica Wedhowerti