The littlest things imprinted in our minds serve as our sources of poignant nostalgia.
It is always like that. Every day we are silent whenever the plane finally takes off the runway. Well, so much for that. The point of the transportation’s mentioning is that it is a kind of alarm when we, Grade 1 students, go out of the classroom and run as fast as we can for the playground. When the plane goes away: it is Recess Time!
“Tago nalang tah—”
Crash. The sudden contact of exposed skin and rough stones make white spots on my eyes, blinding and paralyzing me for a few seconds as pain continue to sting my whole body. I drop and roll like a ball.