 IT WAS (with sincerest apologies to Edward Bulwer-Lytton and his descendants) a dark and stormy night.
Rain poured in a deluge, roaring to a crescendo with every passing of violent winds — winds that swept up the wet leaves of drenched trees, rattled rooftops and maliciously taunted the scanty flame of a single candle that, inside the room, struggled against the darkness.
Dodong was jittery.
He curled on the edge of the folding bed with his back against the wall clutching his weapon—a worn leather shoe—and helplessly looking on as the impending eventual death of his almost spent candle inched nearer.
As the flicker of light continued to wane, he could feel his body shake.
The dogs were making that sound again. It wasn’t a howl, like them talking to a moon they couldn’t see over the pouring rain.
It was a different sound. One that went between a howl, a bark and a yelp. A sound that told him something was out there; a sound that expressed terror of approaching death.
Devil-borne pestilence, he cursed, chastising himself for not having enough sense to buy the bigger, P5 candle, or at least more of the puny ones that he chose to get instead.
Cusses too were uttered in his father’s name.
Had the old fart—the night watchman and caretaker of Cebu City’s largest gun club—not left him to pinch-hit as the sleep-over guard inside the club house as he went off doing only the devils knows what, Dodong would have been at home, where it was cozy and nice.
At the very least, Dodong thought, the old man could have left the key to the gun vault.
Well, at least the door is secure and the windows all had bolted iron grills, he told himself.
And with that, Dodong somehow managed to will himself to sleep.
The next morning, both dogs—found huddled together at the steps to the clubhouse door—were dead. Their bellies had been ripped apart and blood sprayed across where they laid.
This is a true story. Dodong Perero, son of Kamagong Gun Club’s watchman and caretaker Obet Perero, and incumbent day-shift guard of Gaisano South, swears by the grave. Happy Halloween to one and all.
 | I swear my mother was standing right by my bed last night bai...
then I realized she's long dead ;-) The mind is still a beautiful place
to roam around, I like it best when you know exactly that you're
dreaming and let it run until you realize you're already late... ;-)
Its like watching a re-run of your favorite movie, you know how it will
end but your stuck with it like a dumb fcuk heheh |
 | -ehhhhhhhh- talawan man jod ko gud. |
 | you are brave because you are not afraid to show just how fragile you feel. |
| duesouth wrote on Nov 1, '07, edited on Nov 1, '07  i wish i wrote this part of your blog.  eh? you pullin' my leg or something? |
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