It’s that time of the school year when students are obliged to “assess” their professors for the semester that is about to close. As much as Carine wanted to say bad things, diss, and look for something that contributes to a professor’s ruination, say, for the sake of attention, noise-making, talk, criticism, and childish fun, she could’nt conjure up anything of the destructive kind – nothing of the harmful vein. It wouldn’t be fair, you see. Even with a sometimes careless and imprudent heart with pessimistic inclinations, Carine upholds that truth is truth; facts are facts. What is obvious is clear... and what not.
One ripe afternoon, two college girls draped themselves on the steps of the stairs that skirted out of a great hall. One’s lithe body seemed haphazardly flung, like a strip of satin left to conform to the contours of solid marble. Almost in a sunbathing manner, her head was tilted upward – towards the sun – like a Sunflower absorbing solar power. Confidence emanated from her manner –the one who was the taller of the two.
The shorter girl kept more to herself, it seemed. Her palms were wedged in the space formed and pressed between the back of the thighs and the calves – a curious folded position that almost mimics that of a fetus. Clearly, what sprang forth from her was an impression of subjugation and reserve.
The two were complementary to each other.
The taller girl suddenly hoisted herself up and faced the shorter one. She was bent on saying something – a confession?… an idea?… an unveiling? Continue reading “Two Ionas in a Shell”
I remember him now – that guy on TV, the one who landed third place in Hear Ye, Theatre Calls. I can’t believe he lost to farmer boy, Venoit… but it is expected; Venoit performed better – best, I mean. The battle of a talent attuned to popular taste versus skill and expertise harnessed by training and theoretical knowledge. Continue reading “Frio who had an Afro”
On TV, Elemento runs. Scenes of children in uniform running and playing. I’m taken back to my childhood, when I was in my elementary school uniform – running and playing and having fun like the boys on TV.
The kid I’m watching is swapped with an Elemento. I’m not sure how that happens, but as far as I know, when an elemento is involved, there’s a swapping… of “elements”, so to speak.
It’s a Friday. Papa finally arrived from Hawaii. It’s just nice a feeling to have him back home. It’s as if we lost him for a long, long time. Continue reading “Happy Kick of Endorphins”
“I just could not,” was my laconic reply to Papa when he asked me years ago, why I didn’t tell on Mrs. B*****. “I would’ve had a word with her,” he asserted.
Her voice is like the sound of the Flute – velvety smooth, warm, and full, like one glass of fresh creamy milk.
“It makes you smart – reading, that is,” she said. “You will gain something that others will never have.” I did not know hitherto what that “something” was, but I promised that I will read nonetheless. Continue reading The Night Reader
Unopened boxes are mysteries. At least to me, they are. There is a promise waiting inside – a promise of happiness or disappointment. It’s like magic waiting to happen… waiting for the proper revelation. The right person opens boxes; I am one of the right persons. Continue reading “Aunt Reim’s Box of Mystery”
I had the best notebooks in the world. My eight-year-old eyes could attest to that. They were filled with stories of my childhood – stories that are real and stories that are made-up. Continue reading “Beautiful Notebooks”