The city streets were filled with a bunch of alphabetical letters, creating a lively scene. Some letters dangled from old tree branches in the park, resembling a playful group of monkeys swinging in a jungle. Others clung to power lines, climbed the sides of tall buildings or made their way up the beams of pedestrian bridges. The roads were heavily congested, causing frustration among the drivers and riders. Their vehicles—cars and motorbikes—were stuck, surrounded by a chaotic mess of letters.

This disarray, as inextricable as a knot of tangled strings, wasn’t caused by a labour protest for higher wages but by the clamour of these letters that crowded the streets. They were everywhere, like a swarm of ants pouring out of their nest after someone doused it in kerosene. Passers-by were totally spooked by the bizarre scene. They hurried off, looking for somewhere safe to hide. The blaring car horns and roar of engines only added to the chaos of the city.

• Tags: Damhuri Muhammad, fiction, Indonesia, Issue 37