Everyday Routine


And as I went out, there was nothing but mist covering every inch of the road leading to my destination.  It was a Monday morning and I had hoped that even at 4 AM, a tricycle would pass by saving me the task of walking alone in a pitch black morning clouded with thick fog.  But none came.  So with thoughts of Lestat, Whitechapel and Jack the Ripper, Mr. Hyde, and Dracula in mind, I started pacing the long stretch of sand and gravel, praying that none of the characters in my mind at the time would materialize.  A few weeks ago, there had been news of "Manananggal" sightings within the vicinity.  But manananggals were the least of my concerns at that moment since I've been told that they normally come out from the months of May to August, months without the letter "R" in their spellings.  What I feared was meeting a knife-wielding psycho, standing amidst the mist waiting for a victim.  Cloaked in black clothing, long curly hair covering his face, standing more than six feet, fiery eyes that seems to penetrate the very depths of your soul, that would have been the figure.

Hearing nothing except the swaying of the trees, the slow hum of the wind, and the sound of nocturnal insects, I walked, slowly as not to stir the consciousness of whatever creature was lurking behind the shadows.  CRACK!  Damn branch.  I looked around just to make sure that I was still alone...nothing but desolate space - trees, tall grasses.  I continued walking.  Just a few meters more.  The fog seemed to be getting thicker by the moment.

Passed the FLCS Chapel, the Mason house, the tricycle station...at last, the waiting shade and Aguinaldo Highway.  The wind was still crisp, and the cold...biting.  Just a few more minutes I said to myself.  As a dog howled to bid farewell to the night, a light pierced through the thick fog and in a few while, a bus stopped to pick me up.  Tomorrow was going to be another adventure.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Baler: Roadtrip for the Holy Week

Image
First of all, it was an unplanned trip.  However, came early morning of Good Friday, I found myself behind the wheel cruising the narrow road leading to what have been dubbed as the Philippines' surf capital - Baler. Normally, I prefer spending the Holy Week observing traditions like doing the Visita Iglesia, joining a "prusisyon", and most importantly, attending the Easter Vigil.  But a promise is a promise, and I gave one to a cousin to take him surfing in Baler before he flies back to London for work.  Holy Week was the only available time he had. Taking into consideration that Holy Week is vacation time for majority of Filipinos, and Baler slowly becoming a major tourist destination, one of the concern I had in doing the trip was if we would be able to find an accommodation once we get there.  Good thing my cousin was able to have a travel agency reserve a room for us at Jamjen's Lodge that was located just a few steps away from the bea
Read more

Memories of Vigan

Image
May 25, 2007.  It was past office hours, but me and a few officemates were still at our pantry watching the last episode of Maging Sino Ka Man .  While the others had already left from the office to wait at the Motorpool garage, we stayed behind pretending that we were not that excited of the events that would unfold in the next few hours.  It had only been a few months after the rationalization process that formed our new office, and though most of us have been around for many years, this was actually the first time that we'd all be together on a trip out of town for our so-called "team building".  So obviously, nobody had any idea how the trip would turn out, which made it more exciting.  But what really excited us most, was our destination - Vigan. Here goes the story of our journey.  Shiela, Ella, Ate Mhay and Lui passing time at the Motorpool garage me and my seatmate, Ate Lenny In Vigan . lagoon inside the University of Northern Philippines (UNP), as viewed
Read more

Blurry, But Unforgettable

Image
It was sometime in the late 80s.  I remember riding a jeep to Calbiga, one of the municipalities in Western Samar, together with my Uncle Leo a few days before its fiesta .  Yearly attendance in the said occassion had been a family tradition, and me and Uncle Leo went ahead to help with the preparations.  Being a kid at that time, I found the trip long and boring.  But even then, I already knew how to appreciate the beauty of the natural scenery unfolding before me, and I still remember how the countryside looked like to this day. The next day (or later that day), my mom arrived together with my siblings and some of my cousins, and treated us to  a snack at a nearby eatery.  After the treat, Mom toured us around town before going back to my grandmother's house for dinner.  The ambiance of the place had been one common of fiestas - busy hosts rushing last minute preparations, mobile stores selling toys and balloons scattered everywhere, students returning from the cities disembark
Read more