A Day in the Life...

Law school was both a destiny and a curse. The first appreciable words I heard from my father was "you would be a lawyer when you grow up" and stuck to my mind like mildew on wet rock. If he were a warlock, it would have been the curse from Gods. But since he was not, then it must have been destiny. The minute I stepped into the halls of the University, there was a realization that every other hour I have spent in classrooms were for the sole purpose of this endeavor, to learn and argue for somebody else's tragedy. Sighing as if a great thorn in my heart had been plucked out and yet sighing, or rather yawning that the specter of boring classrooms would still be there to haunt me. It had become the wildest of my ambition to finally find myself free of blackboards and teachers mimicking textbooks. And in my first year of law school, my patience was gravely questioned; my discipline doubted thinking it would be another four years of classrooms. To make matters worse, my law...

The cherubim ahead of me looked back and screamed towards my direction, urging me to speed up as the winged creature was fast catching up with us. I had burst into the branches of woods in the night forest and I had to cover my face with my arms in order to clear my view, otherwise the branches of the trees would harm my eyes and the feint illumination offered by the moon would not allow me to navigate properly through the dark woodlands, and especially if a winged creature that was blacker than the night was coming at us with full speed. The night creature was an old woman with wired and mangled gray hair and eyes that was redder than blood. I kept looking into those fiery eyes every time I look behind me, checking out if the creature was already nearing or still farther away, and fear had never been so evident in me. The night creature had wings that were velvety, like they were made of black satin or a kind of a soft garment that are often used for curtains. I thought that perhaps t...

It’s not actually a reef but along its shore, Caragasan Beach felt like one as a great stretch of rock formation lined its coast, among myriad of pebbles that felt like millions of stars in my hands. So you might think it’s not a good beach entirely. Far from that; its actually one place many Zamboangueños goes to every time weekend came and that, despite its relatively remote distance from the city proper (about ten to fifteen kilometers away). You might wonder why. Well, once you stepped farther into the middle of the Caragasan Beach, a little farther from the stony sea ground, you would be witnessing a stretch of clear sand that is incomparable anywhere within the city limits, and in fact the sand there softly reminded me of Boracay. I woke up this morning with a mind on the television, still thinking what already had happened to the Pope since the news yesterday. I turned on the radio and Joe Taruc, or some of his cohorts for that matter, told me that the Pope was finally gone and...