Day 88

This morning, the Pasig River was peppered with things that caught the dim lights of an after-rain. They were silent and unmoving on the surface of the water like uncharted islands.

A man in his boat breaks the stasis and with slow and billowing ripples across the silky brown waters, he picks up plastic one by one, like a god redesigning an archipelagic state.

(writing practice inspired by unphotographable.com)

Advertisements