Plastic Horse

photo by KATHLEEN MAE I. GUERRERO

“WHAT DO you want to do when you grow up?” His hands shook ever so slightly, but he kept a firm hold on his son as he helped the boy climb the biggest plastic horse in the carousel. The ride has slowly begun, moving in soft circles that made his head swirl a little bit.

The boy is still lost in thought, yet his eyes gleamed brightly as he looked at light bulbs that surrounded the poles, and how beautiful the plastic horses seemed under the bright yellow lights.

“I want to be able to relive this moment!” his son boasted. The man smiled at the boy’s childish antics. “And why is that?” he asks.

The boy closed his eyes and straightened his back. He breathed deeply and released his hands from the plastic horse. His father keeps a tight hold on him, and the man could not help but feel amused at his boy.

The boy opened his eyes and he looked quite angelic as he was bathed in the almost-golden light. “Because I feel alive in this moment, Papa,” he says. He was too young yet he was so sure. The father smiled and breathed deeply. He closed his eyes and raised his head upwards while the bright yellow lights tried to permeate through his closed eyelids.

“Me too,” he says in a hushed whisper than no one could have heard. He opens his eyes and smiles at the scene in front of him. “Me too,” he whispers so surely. F CORHEINNE JOYCE B. COLENDRES

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