Yep. This post is a short story of me. Well more
specifically, it’s about something that happened to me when I was a child. May
mirth shine through your faces, for that is the exact reason why I wrote this
post.
The afternoon wasn’t clear. Well,
it was rather cloudy since I never would’ve gone outside to practice my bike if
it was. I was about nine years-old at that time. And the bike was the greatest
thing that happened to me back then.
My only problem though, was that I
am a very slow learner. I always grasp things slowly no matter what I do
(*cough* Orianna *cough*). I have been using my bike for more than three weeks
now, I’m convinced that I have worn down everything: the tires, my knees, shins
and butt; most especially, my mother and her patience (whose foot I have
frequently run over whenever she took her
morning walks).
It turned out though, that I have
taken the last straw from the mother that was the universe.
So back to that afternoon…
I was trying to attain greater
speed on my bike. I went to the ends of our road and always looped back whenever
I reached the intersections. Doing this for more than an hour I was convinced
that I had mastered the bike. Obviously a mistake.
On my way back, I once again tried
that speeding-up thing. Unfortunately, I lost control. I didn’t semplang as most people would call it.
Instead, I got myself into a greater mess.
As I was focusing only regaining
control of my bike, I didn’t notice the broom. What broom? Well, it was of our
resident street sweeper. The broom was laid out across the street and sidewalk,
forming some sort of bridge for ants if ants somehow wished to cross the gutter.
I plowed through that broomstick, and naturally it snapped.
“WALANG HIYA KANG BATA KA! BAKIT
DITO KA NAGBIBISIKLETA? HAYUP KA...!”
That’s was all that I caught from
her between saying little gasps of “sorry.”
I remember not going out of the
house for months when I didn’t have to. I often looked out the window during
afternoons, and there I saw an old, weathered, rather plump woman, using a
broom whose stick was tied together with a string of straw.
Moral Lesson: You should have run over the street-sweeper instead... just kidding.
ReplyDeleteWhat a well-written short story you got there, Sensei. Btw, your words were deep as the ocean and high as the sky.