Ruth Maranan
Cebu City, the Philippines
She stares at the tapestry of gold, orange, and white. It glimmers
beautifully against the windowsill, painting every wall in her room a spatter
of yellow.
It gently dusts the surface of her face, creating miniature mountain ranges
of grief. She hasn’t opened her mouth in days. The ceiling has grown weary
of her all too familiar sullenness. The sun tries one last time to remind her.
“Another day will come tomorrow. And I will return. May these colors fill
you with some joy, a momentary reflection of yesterday’s happiness.
“But if you’re not yet ready, I understand.
“Until then, I will come back again and again. To remind you that this isn’t
the end; not just yet.”
The sun gracefully disappears behind the monumental skyscrapers,
leaving behind her a world of navy and of celestial silver specks.
The girl allows herself to crack the shyest of smiles.
