I was restless. The cool whether suddenly turned excruciatingly humid. I can’t sleep again creeping on the edge. The front terrace on the second floor seems to invite me to stay outside. I submitted. I sat on the old wooden chair and stretched my lazy feet in the white-painted steel center table. I could see the silhouette of the pointed Mount Mayon hiding behind the shadows of the huge mango tree. In a stretch of that cold gloomy night, I peeked at the visible black skies reflecting me.
Surprised that I could see myself staring and smiling at myself, I relaxed. The beams of the sparkling heavenly bodies above struggles to tell me some joys that I want to have. The things that I yearn flickered. Indented wishes divulged some hints. Excited to know what it means, I stood up. I am disturbed by the stirring silence. Oblivious combinations of black and white smelled gray. The stench of cold air made me uncomfortable. I easily forgot that I was still looking beyond. I was puzzled.
The image it created was obscure. I wanted to know more. What happened? Its ambiguity confused me, giving me the push for clarity. I just want to sleep and leave it all behind. Those reflections did somehow reflect something monstrous that I didn’t dare discover. Was it telling me that I’d be happy when I wake up? I wonder. Before reaching for the door, I looked back beyond at the skies. It wasn’t there. I felt chilled. I hugged myself.
I’m all drenched.
