Friday, August 23

Wandering Soul

photo by JOSE JAIME RAPHAEL TAGANAS/ THE FLAME

THE air was warm and heavy; I felt my throat getting parched. With no freshwater in sight, I bent down to savor the lake water. It tasted of earthly reality—it reminded of the memories that continue to haunt me. With trembling hands, I clutched my chest, took my heart out and threw it into the lake, hoping that the waters take it all away from me.

I looked around and found myself in the middle of restless trees dancing with each other. The wind started howling—I think it was warning about the dark shapes that moved between the trees. I squint at my reflection on the crystal water and catch a shadow at the corner of my eyes. Fear struck every pore of my skin and I put myself on guard.

The forest seems to sing an eerie tune. I stagger from dread and the realization dawning in. Due to the desperation of wanting to forget, I am now lost in this ill-tempered forest with nothing but myself and the beasts lurking around.

Chucking my fear to the side, I slowly tread toward the sounds of where the shadows and beasts reside.

Fear dissipated into the air and the forest started singing a different, undisturbed tune. My eyes land on docile creatures huddled together. To my left, the birds are getting ready to flutter their wings.

All this time, the shadows lurking about were simply my own fear. F MHERYLL GIFFEN L. ALFORTE

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