Summer

Quiet, calm afternoons bring me back to my afternoons in our old house in Bagacay. To avoid the baking heat of the rooms, I often lay down on the canopy of our rooftop, safe under the eaves. There, I fell asleep until a cooler breeze from the backyard of the Absins, our neighbors who owned the house at the foot of the hill, woke me up. The late afternoon was the best time to linger, then someone from the house—Mother, brother, or sister—called me for an afternoon treat of linabunan na batag or gina’tan.

Summer.

Acknowledgment
Paz Verdades "Doods" Santos, Bikol critic
The Literature teacher.