babiboooy
Anything, Anything
random thoughts of an average Filipino guy
28 posts
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coffee at 4pm 🤎
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dusk till dawn (but in reverse)
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STEAL BARS
by babiboooy
Manuel expected the police car to have a bigger space in the backseat. He was wrong. Or maybe it was the fear of going to jail that's making everything around him seem too close and too tight. He was alone in the car, trembling and sweating and wondering what was going to happen to him next.
"It was just a small can of sardines," he spoke to himself. He and his family hadn't eaten for days; he had no choice but to take the food and make a run for it.
The police officer came and sat on the driver's seat, his dark blue uniform wrinkled after all the chasing he went through to catch Manuel. Soon after, a man reached the car and took the seat next to the driver. From the back, Manuel recognized the newcomer easily.
It was the town mayor.
The mayor who, according to the news, was guilty of multiple cases of graft and corruption. Manuel didn't need to finish high school to know what all this meant. He may be poor and jobless, but he was never ignorant.
What was the mayor even doing here?
"Hey," the public official looked at him through the rearview mirror, his eyes burning with threat. "It's not good to steal."
Manuel wondered if the mayor ever knew the words "Practice what you preach" because he believed they weren't really different from each other: They were both thieves. Manuel stole from the grocery store; the mayor stole from the townspeople.
Disappointment crawled inside his chest, but he wasn't surprised at all. He could spit on the mayor's face if he wanted to but he chose to shut his mouth. People like him had no power against the rich and the selfish. Instead he leaned his head on the car's window as the engine started to run. The police was going to take both of them now—the mayor to the steel bars of his mansion's gates, Manuel to the steel bars of his prison cell.
And they say the law favors no one.
(end)
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WHITE TREASURES, GUILTY PLEASURES
by babiboooy
The grains of shabu (also known as methamphetamine) glinted like tiny diamonds under the moon's faint glow as Ramon Guerrero held them carefully in both palms. He stood there at the corner of an empty and dark alleyway, letting himself be engulfed by the shadows of the tall buildings. The night breeze brushed against his exposed skin, sending a cold shiver down his spine. The street was so quiet he could almost hear the sound of his own heartbeat.
"Where is that guy?" he asked himself impatiently, his voice made inaudible by his face mask. He sighed and poured the white substance gently into a small plastic bag.
Soon enough, a figure of a tall man came out of the shadows from the other side of the street and walked toward him. Ramon lifted the hood of his jacket over his head so as to avoid recognition and conceal the terrified look on his face. This was his first time selling drugs, after all. And this man, whom he'd only met on the Internet but still not that completely (since both parties had used made-up profiles for the online transaction) was his first customer.
"I'm sorry I'm late," the man said as he reached Ramon. "I had to make sure my whole family's asleep."
Ramon tensed as he handed over the plastic sachet of shabu to his customer, his fingers trembling now more than ever, his eyes focused only on the ground. In return, the man gave him a thick wad of money.
As soon as he got the cash, Ramon sprinted away from his client, never looking back and never even bothering to count his money. His heart throbbed wildly in fear and his knees shook terribly with each step he took. He was so anxious about going home, so scared about getting caught.
Why wouldn't he be?
That man's voice was undeniably familiar. His first customer was Ramon Guerrero, Senior.
(end)
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THE TREE THAT GROWS AT SUNRISE
by babiboooy
He woke up the next day with the sun smiling down at him through the hotel room’s window curtains. He rose from the bed and stood completely naked by the window, the bottles of vodka from last night sitting cold and empty upon the windowsill.
There was a shuffling of clothes behind him as the girl she had slept with robed herself with the same red dress she had worn the other day. He picked up his clothes from the floor and began dressing himself.
He was almost done with his necktie when he heard the girl clear her throat. He stared at her with intense pleasure. Her curly brown hair reached down to her shoulders, where the red kiss mark he had planted last night showed proudly like a prize. He looked at her sparkling brown eyes, and he instantly felt the stirring sensation inside him coming back again.
“I have to go now,” the girl reminded him.
He snapped out of his trance, blinking. “Oh, right. Here.”
He took money from his pocket and gave it to her for the ‘good service’ she had offered him.
“Please,” he added before letting her go, “no one can know about this.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of that.” The girl stopped at the doorway, giving her a seductive wink. “Thank you for the scholarship. See you next semester, Professor?”
He didn't answer. But he certainly felt another surge of hardness down there.
(end)
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Don't Worry, Darling (2022)
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Where the Crawdads Sing (2022)
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Everything Everywhere All at Once (2022)
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And it's always okay.
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At least he's not alone anymore.
#writing#creative#fiction#stories#art#line art#poetry#sentiments#quotes#demons#mental health#depression
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She became darkness herself.
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