One day while he was playing and talking with the neighboring little old man in the hill, a sudden noise interrupted their conversation. The old man isn’t a conversationalist unless you pay him respect then he won’t mind. The old man seeing the brightness in the boy’s smile, dismissed him and told him to check the noise on the bushes.
By Erika Joy Baliguat | Manawari Digital Production AB LITERATURE 3B In Bicolano myths, the Bakunawa was a goddess punished for her arrogance and greed for coveting the moon or moons, trying to swallow them […]
If you can hear the silent space between,
These burning words that I have now recalled,
Would you allow our bleeding minds to deem
This freezing guilt a needless fire to hold?
I stopped trying to make connections or friendships with any of them. Any of them, except for that old man across the street. I haven’t seen him yet for probably a few days now since my first arrival in this neighborhood. I sometimes would see his truck coming out of the path, but the window pane is so dark, that it’s hard to make out what he looks like. I had this impression that he’s probably an old grumpy man, judging by how far his house probably is from the road.
It was probably ten in the evening. My body was telling me that it was about this time of the day. But the sun was just starting to tint my skin with a subtle orange […]
