Last night, past midnight, was one of those rare times I didn't go to bed immediately. Had a cup of strawberries in cream ice cream mixed with fresh strawberries in the kitchen, then spent half an hour in our small loggia, along the driveway. It was the second night of the full moon, but both moon and stars were covered by thick sheets of rainclouds. The only lights around me were the windows of Cyberpark 2 Tower, in Araneta Center, where night-shift employees were busy at their call centers, fluorescents on the upper floors of the trainees' dormitory at Police Precinct 7, across the street, the lamps on P. Tuazon Boulevard, and the red-orange tip of my lit cigarette weaving random patterns in the air.
The night was alive but still. It was the kind of night when toys came to life, when gnomes held their visiting hours, and when leaves dropping from the dragon tree onto the driveway sounded like elfin footfalls. Past curfew time, young men walked diffidently across the compound entrance; could they be elves in human disguise?
I continued smoking in the semi-darkness, wondering what my loved ones were dreaming of.
No comments:
Post a Comment