Dream Journal Twenty Five

I was crouching in a street corner. With my knees folded and my hands pressed against my face. Not far away is a dying man surrounded by a crowd. I could hear them saying, "lumalaki yung ulo niya o!" (his swollen head is about to burst!)  But I didn't care. So are my other two companions who were close by. Their backs turned away from the commotion.And then without a word, someone wrapped a piece