wrinkles and history


“How old are you, opung?”

“93…I guess.”

“Do you know him?”

“Who are you by the way?” turning her eyes on my father

“I am Ubat, from Lumban Toga down there, remember?”

“Ooh…I know you. You don’t change much, do you?” her wrinkles recall a memory and another as they started talking about the folks who passed away ahead of her.

The history is written beautifully in her eyes and wrinkles.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this:
close-alt close collapse comment ellipsis expand gallery heart lock menu next pinned previous reply search share star