Brute, Dagan!

Marjorie Calar

It was past midnight when Susan and I drove our way home from a funeral wake.  Wanting to be home before three, Susan drove fastly but a sudden explosion happened. I checked out the car and saw that the tire had burst out. Since there was no signal in the place, we can’t find help but then an old man approached and gave us two free tickets to stay in his own private resort. Tired and sleepy, we gratefully accepted the tickets and followed his lead to the resort.

            Reaching the resort, it was already 3:05 A.M and as we were about to thank the old man, a woman with a toe-length hair, dressed in all white greeted us and brought us to our room. We felt strange but the more terrifying moment was when we opened the window, a man as tall as the coconut tree with thick beard and hairy feet was walking towards us blowing off his smoke. Our bodies jerked but never move – even an inch. With his smolder, we felt dizzy and fainted.

            Then the next time we knew, we were already on the top of the mango tree and wondered whether it was a reality or a nightmare.