Dark Side of the City

The rush hour began and riding a jeep on the other side of the road will cost more, I always thought. I started walking like I always do so I could find a jeepney that has enough space for me to go home. The dark and crowded sidewalks felt heavy with the exhaustion I had for the day.

“Stop crying! Hala naay police oh,” a mother hushed her little child for not buying him a lato-lato on a busy sidewalk. I looked at the bright distance where the mother’s eyes were fixed— two men in uniform laughing at each other. The child’s face showed no fear and continued his loud cry that joined the noise of numerous vendors selling toys, street foods, and fruits. The mother insisted that their jeepney fair was the only thing left in her pocket as she tightly hold a huge red plastic bag filled with noodles and uncooked rice. 

As I passed them, I overheard a worried voice from a person walking beside me, “Nak, uli ug sayo kay naa na pud gilabay sa daplin.” My feet stopped. An old jeepney’s loud horn startled me when I was about to turn my head. I raced with the waiting passengers and hurriedly went inside the vehicle before it turned into a can of sardines. I quickly looked outside but there was no sight of him, nor the policemen in the distance. The light inside the jeepney was enough to see the clock’s hand pointed at ten from the man’s pale wrist sitting beside me.

Ang Libro ni Maria

Niadto mi ni Maria sa isa niya ka kwarto nga puno ug libro, kada estante nga nagtindog kay puno gyod morag posporo sa usa ka sudlanan nga bag-ong palit. Grabe akong kalipay labi na pareha miganahan mobasa. 

 “Neng, pangita na ug libro nga gusto nimo basahon,” ingon niya ug ningisi. Naa siyay gikuha nga libro sa kilid ug nilingkod sa dako nga lingkuranan. Mitutok rako niya samtang hinay-hinay niya giabrihan ang libro sa tunga niini ug gisimhot.

“Ahh. Humota, uy! Ganahan sad ka musimhot ug libro, Neng?”

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