Her Book Yet Untitled

The room was quiet, the only sound she hear is from the fan and from the keyboard keys that’s busy making a melody.

Clouds loom the skies while she’s sitting there in front of the table sipping her coffee on a hot night inside their home at 2617. Beside her is her laptop, browser opened with fifteen tabs running, trying to do short links for the crypto faucet sites she’s into.

To her left lays two books, brown coloured and covers worn out in time. The black cover was printed 1988 and the other white now brown was in 1985. Amazing how these books stood the test of time and still has a tale to tell. I was born after those books were published or say reprinted. And it feels amazing how they stayed intact for all those years.

I was rummaging the old stacks of papers and books and found gems worth rereading. I know I read these from before but now I can’t even remember the plot. So one of these days while I am at the country side, away from the hustle bustle of the city, I can finally read some with no distractions at all. Not that there really is, it’s all in my head. Hehe. Being home, in my comfort zone, just melts the unhealthy habits I grew accustomed to at the city.

And though not as occupied as the people here, who goes to their rice fields, tends to their gardens, go feed their cows or carabaos or even do hard labor; at the least, I am not enclosed with just facing the screen for the whole day trying my best to make ends meet. And here I am just doing things I normally do, when I am here at home.

While I slept late the night before, I still woke up early by the soft sound of the dogs barking not far from our house, and the roosters crowing one after the other. Also the light the new dawn gave was so bright it illuminated our room and it made it hard to get into slumber again. Haha. Oh, before I forget, I needed to change that thin curtains into thick ones before going to bed later, to protect my eyes from the eye-blinding light of the sun in the morning. Because our bed face the bedroom window where the sun arises.

Waking up with a new day to be thankful for, I nudged my child for her to wake up also. A little cuddle then we went down to have our morning coffee. Her skin feels hot and she looks tired. I regretted waking her up, but she might not feel good also if I leave her alone at the bed when she awakes.

Enjoyed the coffee with the family, ate breakfast then I washed the dishes and swept the floor after. My brother and father went to do their business, they have to go check their workplace because someone trespassed at the property; after that they then went to another town to check another errand. While me, my daughter and mother were left at home doing our thing also. Hehehe.

Had a little break from technology. And so as to not be bored, my child and I went out to have a little walk. The heat of the sun is not that strong and the wind out is breezy so it’s supposed to be a good walk. But my child doesn’t want to go far. Not used to the dirt, weeds and plants around the pathway, she pulled me and said to go home. Hahaha. So we just had our afternoon nap. Evening came and I am the one tasked to prepare our food. Then dished away also. Hehehe

First day of vacation came to an end.

Now, still sitting here, in front of the screen trying to write. Coffee’s almost cold.

Browsing the leaf while careful not to rip the old pages of the book.

It’s like a reel came out of nowhere, my life on a rewind, from the good ole days.

Where the only pain we feel is the scratched knees and legs from running too fast, the toothaches from eating too much sweets, and the whipping we got from the elders.

Where we got to do and experience new things with our friends. Hanging out and dreaming together most often like there is no tomorrow.

Where we dreamed to grow up fast and be adults to enjoy our freedom.

Where puppy affections turned and blossomed into young love. Those were the happier days, the days we don’t get to hold off how we truly feel for the other person.

Where we thought our first heart breaks really were that deep. And thought we couldn’t live without the other person.

These old pages of the book are meant to be treasured and kept forever.

Locked in fragility.

It was easier, those times. The scars remains but that’s just it.

And now we’re back to the reality where I have yet to write on my blank pages.

Will my choices just be mere coincidences or is there a reason more behind for it?

That I will see. With my book untitled yet.