"Alam mo ba na kapag malakas ang pag hampas ng alon, ibig sabihin ay may matinding nararamdaman ang karagatan?" Pierre asked the girl walking at his side. Hindi s'ya nito tinitignan mula pa kanina at tanging diretso lang ang titig sa daanan.
"Pinag sasabi mo? Tumutula ka nanaman d'yan."
Ngumiti lang si Pierre. "Let me tell you a tale. A tale of this land."
"Once, when the people have actually love the sea, and the ocean loves them too dearly. Maraming kaibigan ang karagatan, ang mga ibon sa himpapawid, mga isda, ang araw na tirik, ang ulan na parte n'ya, at ang mga tao."
"Maging ang mga puno ay nakakausap n'ya. The ocean was very much happy, contented every single day. No matter how much the children playing ruins his shore. He'll gladly make his wave come running to erase the footsteps, the castle, that ruins his peaceful view. Bumabalik ang mga alon n'ya, at walang iniiwang bakas ng mga paa. Naroroon ang buwan at araw upang gabayan s'ya, mga puno upang kausapin s'ya at aliwin. Sa ganoong paraan, matiwasay ang pamumuhay n'ya kasama ang mga tao."
"Pero isang araw, nagalit ang dagat. Wala ang araw ni buwan upang gabayan s'ya at pakalmahin, pinuputol ng mga tao ang mga kaibigan n'yang puno, inuubos nila ang mga isda. Binabaril ang mga ibon. The ocean can't hold it any longer, he releases the biggest wave he could ever make hovering the people playing. Even the trees, reaching the birds and waking up the rain."
"After his tidal explosion he was never happy since then with what he saw."
The girl besides Pierre looked at him. "Your point?"
"Don't push me to my limit, Criselda. Because anger can wreck everyone, even the one who holds it."
YOU ARE READING
One Hundred Fifty
RandomFifty, Fifty, Fifty A writing challenge for myself is to create fifty poems, fifty essays, and fifty one-shot stories, every single prekeng day to make it a hundred and fifty days of honing my skills and giving sparks to my interest. Here's the deal...
