Back when the world was still all fun and play, it was already a different play for me. It was summer mid-afternoon and there are plenty of fallen dry leaves outside. It was always like this during this season. They're scattered all over the place! The street curb, the small canal openings, the concrete pavements, the whole stretch. The way the wind blew always made the leaves drift nearer to the house. The corner lot beside the house doesn't grumble, but the neighbors do. What I'd do is head out and sweep the street of it. After a dull tiring session of sweeping, the trees seem to be not so happy about it. They shake themselves more, shedding what few leaves they have left. I'd imagine myself as a gladiator with the whole world against me (but in my case the only weapons are my determination and a ridiculously long broomstick. After every brush, the pile seems to getting bigger and bigger). Imagination prevails and I am winning. When sweat and nature's sentinels seems to have clashed, it is sweat that prevailed!
Triumphantly staring at the pile as if they were warriors fallen, there was only one thing left to do. No, it isn't to bag them all up. There was simply too many ( not to mention the summer heat brings out lazy me too). The only solution now is to set them ablaze. Old fashioned scorch 'em up practice.
I lit up the match and placed it near the pile. It burnt, but not as quick and glorious as I thought it would be. Silly me, I bought 2 pints of kerosene (10 pesos for one fourth a pint - what a rip off!). I poured all the contents of the container. Even before it was emptied, the fire seemed to be so huge now. The flame swayed and swiveled as if it were in a mad trance; and it danced. I guess I was victory dancing with it then ( half war dance, half Macarena). I was too busy dancing that I forgot to let go of the container. Little did I know that a single drop would make my skin burn.
True to every rule in thermodynamics, it did burn my skin. I winced in pain, threw the container in the maddened flame and ran away as the flames' roar haunted me,"Burn silly, burn." ... I guess I wasn't so victorious after all.
...
The slight burn from the drink hurts. The pain; It makes my eyes misty. I never thought they'd serve coffee this hot. Placing the drink down slowly so as not to spill it, I can't help but notice the scar on my left hand. Touching it gently, I smiled at the memory of how it got there. Entering back to reality from a sudden trip to memory lane, the scar remains; it was still there. I thought to myself, "I should let life teach me its lessons only once, and never forget it." Said but did not fully live up to it. I gulped down another mouthful of the drink. And I again I winced in pain, though this time I did not throw the cup, nor did I ran away.
Instead, I smiled at my own stupidity and thought of life whispering to me,"Learn silly, learn." I smiled at the irony.
I guess I still have a lot to learn.
