Flash Fiction

10:27am

The passengers are already swarming in the Baclaran-bound Monumento station at this holy hour. Some are queuing in the ticket vending machines to reload their beep cards, some lining up at the windows to purchase single journey tickets. Everyone is just busy.

I can hear a lot of annoying murmurs because of rants of passengers due to the delayed train in a supposed to be rush hour. As usual, all I can see are unfamiliar faces. I instantly look away when someone tries to look at my eyes. I have deep brown. I assume they all think I am a foreigner. But surprise, I have the most Filipino accent every Filipino can have.

The train approaches that makes the crowd go wild. Even wilder, when the train doors started to open. I can feel the frustration of these passengers because of the failed mass transportation system of this country. Their rage against this system is just and right. 

I did not make it through that crowd. It was hell. 

The series of thoughts that is rushing in my mind suddenly stopped when a familiar voice called me from the outside of the platform. 

“Hey,” the voice said.

I immediately looked in his direction. I knew it. It was you. I am also happy to say that it has always been you.

“How are you?” he asked. His hair falls and it blocks his eyes but he waves it back right away. It grew much longer compared to the last time I saw him. The frames of his reading glasses also changed. His scent, oh I cannot forget how he smelled like fresh rose before. But it also changed. He smells a little too strong today. 

I am too hesitant to respond. I don’t even know why do we need to have this conversation. 

“I cannot say I’m good but definitely feeling better than before.” He tried to reach for my eyes but I looked away. I swear I cannot resist his gaze. Not this time and not ever, again.

We got in the next train. No one talked for a while. We got past two stations.

“Arriving at R. Papa Station.”

“Do you know what I like here, Martin?” I stuttered as I start a conversation between two awkward gay men seeing each other again after months. The feelings are just exactly the same to what it felt like before. I want to touch him badly but I am afraid I cannot because of the current circumstances. 

The feelings are just the same, but the situation? It is a hundred percent different now.

“What is it?” he responded right away.

This is why I loved him. He listens to my narratives earnestly. Martin is always curious when it comes to my stories. He instantly became my constant wordpad filled with my pop-up anecdotes.

“Two trains going to opposite directions meeting at the same station.”

“Why do you like it? What is with those trains?” he asked me as he tries to look at my eyes again but this time, our eyes met.

“Arriving at D. Jose Station,” the public service announcement said.

“They are like us. We are destined to see, to know each other. We are fated to meet one another. But we are bound onto different paths. Hence, the drifting away of those two trains headed to where they really belong.” There, I said it.  “Like the trains, we cannot feel the touch of each other, too.” I added.

I kept it for 8 months. I told no one that it is still him that makes me sad every time I remember something that leads back to him.

“Martin, I need to go now. This time I’ll be leaving first because the last time you left me without an alarm, I almost did not make it to my next station.” I revealed to him. 

I stepped out of the train and I think my words left him in awe. The train doors closed. I thought this time will be my time but again, he left me first and did not bid his good bye. Just like the old times.

After I realized that he was gone again, I told myself I needed to get back to my senses.

“Angelo, will you please hold this picture frame for me?” Cecilia uttered. As soon as I got her things in my hand, she answers her phone. “Yes, mommy. I am with Timothy and we already arrived here. I have everything… the frame, candles, flowers… yes, I have it,” I guess her mom’s checking her up.

The moment we stepped out of the station, the signage outside reads ‘Chinese Cemetery this way’.

Till we meet again, Martin. I hope we are both ready and I wish I am the place where you really belong.

12:55am