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”
The heat stifled me, so I went to sleep. No one expects rain in this kind of summer heat; it is too hot to welcome rain.
I tossed and turned. I’d feel sticky if I remained in one position. The man beside me snores and moans, snores and complains. I don’t blame him. Men are meant to generate heat. Continue reading “A Midnight Hunger”
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.
“Okay. Next. Let’s listen to your position, Miss Evergreen. Step on the riser and begin…” instructed Miss Hally.
“Ahem- ahem!” Cara paused for twenty seconds for a pensive effect. She looked at each of her classmates’ foreheads – the area close to where eyebrows furrow. After a lungful of breath intake, stated: Continue reading “The Position of Cara Evergreen Who Can’t Do Anything”
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”