Saturday, December 15

The First Step

photo by SHANA ANGELA S. CERVANIA

THE SWARM of pedestrians comes to take you away while I look on powerlessly. They leave me standing alone at the end of the lane, stewing in my own emotions. A newfound feeling settles deep within my chest: it is something as obscure as the impending darkness of the night, yet it burns bright like the last rays of light in dusk.

The seconds continue to tick by as you traverse the white lines in cadence with the footsteps of others. There is plenty of time left, but I remain surrounded by a panic as encompassing as the lazy red glow from above. In my vision, everything seems to be at a standstill: the gentle breeze in the air is gone, the vehicles are stuck in traffic, and I am in an impasse. I compel my feet to move, but a surge of hesitance and doubt overpower it. Desperately, I begin looking for a sign; perhaps, an answer or a reassurance to my ‘what ifs.’

My eyes land on the pedestrian timer. The figure walks continuously, though seemingly without a certain destination. It is more assured than I ever will be, with its unfaltering pace and consistent motion. With this realization, I risk a step forward. Nothing happens.

In my bout of musing, I fail to realize just how much time had passed, and all of a sudden, the green signal bursts forth like the aurora.

I begin to run. F LORRAINE C. SUAREZ

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