The Guiding Light

photo by MARIANNE LORRAINE M. SAMILING

“I’LL BE home by five.” He was too worried about the traffic and whether I would fall asleep on the way home. I assured him that I would not and that I would be home just in time for the news to broadcast in the television.

He closes his eyes and heaves a sigh. His smile is tight, and it looked like he was hatching a plan in his mind. I start walking away, waving as I turn around to cross the street and to become mindful of other passers-by.

We play this game every night, he would follow me until I would reach the bus stop, and I would pretend that I never knew. He would stay away from a distance, standing near one of the lampposts in the street, making sure that I would get in the bus safely.

As he stood by the streetlight, he seemed more of a lighthouse that brought a sense of security to ships. He led the way home and he reminded me that there would always be someone looking out for me. There was nothing else to fear.

The bus has arrived, and I squeeze in through a multitude of people, just so I could stand near one of the windows of the vehicle. As the bus starts to move, our eyes meet each other, and a tiny grin spreads on our faces.

All distance is lost. The ship has found the lighthouse. F CORHEINNE JOYCE B. COLENDRES

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