Highway

5.30 AM. With a stack of newspapers pressed against my chest held by both arms, I trudged quietly along the paved sidewalks of Quezon Avenue, sensing every cold breathe that I take and listening to every beat that my tired heart makes. As I make my way to the usual destination, I looked ahead on the horizon and noticed the majestic view of the sun rising at the end of the road in full contrast to the dark night sky and the bright waning quarter moon slowly disappearing on my back. The streetscape, bathed in warm tints of orange from those tall streetlights and multitude headlights from passing cars, made a lasting impression on my mind.

But like those busy cars speeding their way through time, I wonder what the rest of the world is in so much hurry about. I stared blankly at the raging highway waiting and hoping to see them stop, even for just a short while to appreciate the change of hues in the sky, but they never did. They never did.