Watching the grayish hills of Manito on a misty dusk, and seeing tiny dots of light appear little by little beneath them as households switched on their lights, was so enchanting. A nostalgic scene reminding me of my native place – Bulusan.

A short story describing a mystical night I experienced conversing with an elder man, and hearing his wisdom.

Poem.

A poem about a calm secluded place.

Considering past choices.

This poem dedicated to the one of my friends call Rayan (Alex)

This is our time…

From the Garden at Treetops a look at winter rain.

Being with the one you love and telling him/her, and showing him/her how real and true your love is.

My college friends promised a visit to my house, but they didn’t turn up. Those days phone was not common for the middle-class.