Sunday, September 20, 2009
The participants started to struggle in discourse on how to live. They decided to open the main door and fill it with basic wooden chairs. In that way, they saw the light and felt the enviroment before it turns into the night time. Father was outside the camping site, cooking rice by fire, disinterested with the jeopardy the cowardice of the participants were showing.
I was inside the first house and felt that I was locked for the wooden chairs were tangled by the door. I realized there was a back door near to where father was cooking. So I did my task of observing by the window. That was when I saw the tiger. It was growling, mad and running. The participants grew exhausted and frightened despite the boundary the house established. I told them confidently: "The tiger could be your food if you corner it." The tiger continued to growl, healthy in its awareness. I could not comprehend if it was mad or it was just showing its tenacity and elegance, owning the territory we invaded.
I wanted to go out and go to the camping site with father, but I absorbed the fear they developed. I could not go out. The tiger was walking right in front of father, not even bothered by this coexistence. It was a defeat, I still could not go out.
Erika Ruiz
Saturday, September 19, 2009
I covered myself with the heavy old curtain. It had pockets that was filled with two large frames with unseen paintings inside. I walked around and around the vintage house, wandering where to stay, to remain. No one sat on the numerous couches seen in the living room, as they were only concerned in their senseless discourse in the dining room. But it only began to rain hard.
Those who were drinking coffee decided to go to the living room to close the windows as it was already almost raining inside the house. It was fragile, for the windows were only made of sliding metal screens so thin and soft as a chiffon fabric. Somehow, the wind were making the sliding windows move from side to side, violently not helping the rain going inside the house. However useless it may be, the thin windows never broke down.
I just couldn't not care.
Erika Ruiz
Friday, September 04, 2009
The tallest youth went out and walked deviantly. He went straight to the gentlemen who were presenting their invented machine. He was staring blankly as the inventors continue to smile as they elaborated. The balloons were flying and the tall man could still reach them. It was frightening, his hands were so long it could destroy the whole arena.
She came from an ordinary group of youth. She barely spoke to him, but they had this understanding of their mutual philosophy. Her demeanor was uptight and laidback, his was stern and self-absorbing. Both of them followed the stance of this tallest youth and stared at his hands.
Both of them decided to walk away and resumed in their discourse. Her jacket was so thick, the color of salmon was striking. They were positively progressing until the sun hid and the clouds confessed the rain. He ran to the nearest building and kicked the motorcycle in rage. He could never get wet. She was eyeing his movements questioningly. She realized this and followed him, moving to the other side of the end where he stood. He was sad, walked, and hugged her.
"What's wrong, man?" She said, as she smiled at him for ease. The rain was completely pouring as they wait for it to stop before moving again. She just returned his favor.
Erika Ruiz
