Marky Stories: Garbage Noises
I am among the many provincial people who ventured to Metro Manila to fulfill their dreams and aspirations in life that I know will not be fulfilled in the remote barangay in our province where I was born. And because of these aspirations, I went to a fun but noisy place and lived in an old house in part of Manila, a place of informal settlers.
"Daniel, do not have a drink with those who hang out in the alley to come to us", said Nana Linda, a distant relative of mine who lived in Metro Manila. "Those people are often addicted to drugs!"
"Oh," I replied. "It's hard for me to face them once because they will definitely invite me every time I pass by their seat!"
Even though I am not used to the changing working hours because the schedule is shifting, I am very satisfied because with people like me who come from the province, the minimum wage is already huge. And because I was aware of what was happening in the environment, I focused on one of the many problems facing the Philippines, the cleanliness of the environment that is in my mind, there is the answer, the lack of discipline and concern.
"A few days when the garbage is piled up, the odor has not been hauled and the odor has intensified" I said observing the things that not only caused irritation to my eyes but also to the smell.
But when I passed the garbage heap, I heard a noise in my heart, there was a baby taking the place that when I passed by, covering my nose and trying to avoid looking. Because of the pinch in my heart I felt, I decided to go back to the pile of trash to help the little angel.
And with the help of the light coming from the flashlight of my cellphone, I turned my eyes to the piles of garbage to find the baby that was making noise and because it was night, I could clearly hear. But I failed to see the little angel whose noise pinched my heart so I decided to continue walking to finally get away from the pile of garbage.
"Certainly, I was just imagining the noise I heard because the news about the baby thrown in the trash was deeply ingrained in my brain", I whispered as I continued walking away from the pile of garbage.
But over the course of the day, I realized that I could not imagine the noise I could hear in the pile of rubbish in the corner of the crossroads because every time I passed by, I could hear more at night. Nana Linda said that once I told her about the noise I heard, it was done by babies thrown in the trash who died because they were not found immediately.
Out of pity for the little angel who created the noise that made my heart ache, I decided to offer a prayer to the poor infants when they went to church to fulfill their sacred role as Catholics. And I was so happy because after a few weeks of going to church and offering prayers to stop the noise in the pile of garbage made by the baby, I never heard it again.
I have a belief that every writer eventually finds their voice as a writer. We start out in this beautiful moment where everything is possible. As newbies, we’re in it for the stories — not for the complexities of the market. Every good story starts with a spark of inspiration, an idea. What matters to the new writer is not who is going to read that thing, but instead crafting that idea into something people will want to read. Marky stories are not only for children, but adult may want to read this also as if the stories have love, fiction, epic and many more, I'm not only focusing in one theme, because every day, readers want something new, something that is not published before.
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