by FRANCIS MIGUELL S. STA. ROSA
HE STUMBLED as he journeyed to the España side, decorating the floor with his reading materials. Tired even of getting mad, he let out a big sigh and picked up the papers—and himself.
“Okay, slower now.”
Christmas colors dictated the movement of the vehicles along the road, going slower as days went by. The commute time from the school to his house increased by half. The cold breeze caressed him every day, coercing him to rest.
However, the tasks knew no god. The past few months seemed insurmountable, and fragments of the enemy remain. The spirit of the season undeniably manifested itself in the surroundings, but he just could not fathom thinking about it—yet.
“Kung iisipin mo, ‘di naman dati ganito,” said Ebe through his earphones. Hearing Jose Mari and Mariah only agitated him, forcing a stream of emotions he just could not feel. Or so he hopes.
“Ato! Puwedeng patulong?” The maintenance personnel shouted as he was nearing the gate. Mang Simon asked him to hold the wires being tied to the tree. “Boy, saksak mo nga!” He then noticed a burnt-out bulb. Still, he is in glee as the others lit up.
“Tignan mo itong ilaw, o. Kahit pundido na, dinadaluyan pa rin ng liwanag.”
The pupil let out a bright smile beyond the voltages he thought his burnt-out heart could produce. F