I shut the door behind me. Scrolled down to a song in my playlist. Stripped my shirt off. Turned the hot water on. Waited for the steam to rise. And then closed my eyes.
The music played, adding one synthesized layer over another. I swayed slowly, then with increasing urgency. The lights dimmed before exploding in color. I broke into sweat, as I pumped my fist in the air.
A knock on the door, followed by a stern warning from hubby. "Quiet down. You'll wake the whole building up."
I opened my eyes, and the lights came back on. I caught a glimpse of myself in the misted mirror, as I pulled back the runaway fist and wound down the epileptic swaying.
Under the fluorescent lighting, I saw the familiar image of my father. Reliving a distant era, as he strutted his stuff. Enduring the taunts of one who, at that time, still took his youth for granted.
12 comments:
Early father's day or mourning the loss of fickle youth? Either way, you deliver such heartbreak succinctly and so I forever await your next post. :p
memory, oh you slimy, tricky thing.
- the geek
On many occasion, I'll look in the mirror and it's my father's face looking back at me.
Perhaps I'm not the glass half full guy that you are, because I don't see my youthful father of the past, but my own mature face having morphed into the memory of my dad.
I'm new here, and I liked what I've read. So I'm gonna do some backreading. :)
hello, sean. how are you? i missed you. i hope you are well. :)
kuya sean? kamusta ka na?
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kaway-kaway kuya sean :)
just wondering how have you been doing, sean? how are you?
i missed you.
Poignant naman nito. It's nice to be back in reading your blog, Sean!
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