Posted by: theboyfromsmallville | November 13, 2006

3:58 p.m. White Suburban. Death Valley

And the late afternoon is orange.

We are traveling on a northeast direction on a freeway pinched in on both sides by endless stretches of brown sand and jagged mountains that cut sharp corners against the sky.

Everything is orange.

The sky is blue orange. The mountains are brown-green orange. The desert is brown orange. The concrete is gray orange. The Suburban we are traveling in is white orange. The music streaming out of the door speakers is quiet orange.

My mind is black orange.

On the 20th of November, whether or not Manny Pacquiao wins or loses, I will fly to
New York, step off JFK international airport and run into the open embrace of my mom.

I haven’t seen her in 15 years, the ear;y part of which was spent in a wordless war fueled by misunderstanding. It is this meeting that keeps me from being too giddy about being in the US. Even the bright lights of Las Vegas fail to tantalize me.

I watch Vegas appear from a distant. A city enveloped by desert setting and cocooned in the sheen of a multicolored glow.

I do not whoop it up in my mind.

My mind is on Nov. 20. JFK international. My mom. She’s bringing me a thick sweater then because she knows I’m cold and I did not bring enough thick clothes for this trip. That’s me being stupid.

I lean against the Suburban’s window. Behind me, the sun is tucking itself behind the mountain ranges that fence in Death Valley. The sands stretch out endlessly, disturbed by the growth of cactus and the blackened spots that serve as a reminder that once upon this year, summer passed.

In my mind, I am picturing meeting my mom.

What should I do?

What should I say?

How would it all turn out?

It’s been 15 years.

Help.

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Responses

  1. relax, big bro.
    malalaman mo rin pag andyan na s’ya sa harap mo.
    meanwhile, relax. hinga.
    :-)

  2. Wow, New York!

    Kiko, tama si Dindin, relax ka lang. I hope you have a good time with your mom. (-:

    Pictures ng NY ha!


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