Friday, August 23

Stuck

photo by JOSE JAIME RAPHAEL TAGANAS/ THE FLAME

It was that time of the day when the roads were scarcely bestrewed with vehicles and people – when the morning light has just manifested into the streets.

He hopped onto his bicycle and proceeded to go along his usual day. As the day progressed, the peaceful streets he was appreciating were gone, much to his dismay. Of course, how could he forget the existing inconvenient conditions in this country? Before he knew it, vehicles occupied the roads to the extent that it was cramped in every corner.

The rush hour was finally here.

While waiting for the stoplight to turn green, he witnessed a car speeding towards the intersection, nearly crashing into another vehicle in the process. He winced internally.

Once the traffic lights signaled to a go, everyone scrambled to accelerate. However, the traffic was once again halted when a jeepney stopped in the middle of the road to load a passenger. He shook his head in disbelief.

He inhaled whatever fresh air was left. His mind wandered to the vision that he and the other commuters have itched for: the absence of traffic congestion and the torment that comes with it everyday. He can only hope that people will realize that both the problem and solution lies within themselves. If no one will do anything about it, nothing will change.

So here he was with burning thighs and aching arms. He continued to pedal through the rambunctious sea of conveyances, hoping to be a difference.  F MHERYLL GIFFEN L. ALFORTE

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