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"What's in the bag?!"
Last night, we went to Saguijo to meet up with my cousin Oliver. We got there too early. So after eating chicharon bulaklak and salpicao (yeah, yeah, the diet was supposed to start January 2, i know), me and Wella went upstairs to check out the stuff at Baul. Of course, Baul mostly sells clothes for women, so there was not much for me to look at.

When I saw this bag perched on top an old Chinese box and wondered who used to own the bag (and the box). I wondered if the previous owner left behind a letter or a postcard that she forgot to send. Maybe there was a matchbook of a restaurant that closed down years ago and scribbled in the matchbook was the number and the name of her lover.

I thought how wonderful it might be to have a store that sold such things and people would get a free story with whatever they bought. Maybe they would find a crumpled up love letter in the pocket of a jacket, a note in the drawer of a old writing table, a family recipe stuck in the pages of a cookbook.

Just thought it would nice to find such surprises.


"Are we there yet?"


On my way to work, I saw this couple resting near the Manila Peninsula. Something urged me to take their picture. Maybe it was because they were neatly framed in front of that landscaped backdrop. I wondered why they were here and what made them decide to come to the Philippines. Were they on their second honeymoon? Visiting friends or in-laws? Did they hope to see that famous Filipino tradition of staging coups in hotel lobbies?

And I thought about how Wella usually can't walk long distances. (Her feet hurt all too quickly And how she'll need a massage at the end of the day.) I once joked about how were we supposed to travel and go sight-seeing if she couldn't walk so far. Then she pointed out that I was the one who didn't like to travel. (True, but I was thinking more about going to the San Diego Comic Con.) I'm not really a big fan of road trips or land travel.

And I wondered if me and Wella will be like that old couple: still going on trips, traveling (against my will), seeing new sights, checking out the new restaurants (where Wella will probably just order the chicken), and after resting a bit underneath the shade, we'd just keep on walking.

And the light turned green.

And the taxi lurched forward.

And I was late for work.
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Hilda said…
If/when you decide to make stories about the bag and the couple, give me a buzz. They should be mighty interesting!
1:02 PM
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