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Tasks

Priorities - A: high, B: medium, C: low; Status - _: unfinished, X: finished, C: cancelled, P: pending, o: in progress, >: delegated. Covey quadrants - Q1 & Q3: urgent, Q1 & Q2: important
A1XReview schedule {{Tasks:386}} (E-Mail from Christine Amarra)
A2XReply {{Tasks:385}} (E-Mail from Ariel Maguyon)
A3XReply {{Tasks:384}} (E-Mail from Rolando P. Martinez)
C1XPackage remember-el for Debian {{Tasks:83}} (RememberEl)

Schedule

16:30 18:00 Panel on academic standards, cura personalis, and magis. Gonzaga Function Room A, TFI
16:30 18:00 Faculty meeting
19:00 21:00 Dinner with Dominique

Notes

1. Going Home

Categories: ShortStories#2 -- Permalink
<insert disclaimer here: mostly fiction>

By the way, the idea for this story came from a friend. The original version is PGP-encrypted to myself below. If you want a copy of this, send me your public key and I'll ask the original author. ;)

Here's an experiment - first person and third person. Guess which one was written first and say which one you prefer.

Going home (first person)

I was quietly reading a textbook in the lobby when this crazy friend of mine snuck up on me and went "Boo!" almost in my ear. Nearly fell off my seat. Glared at him, but he just laughed.

"You're still here? Classes were dismissed two hours ago." He raised an eyebrow.

"Project - had to stay late. My carpool left already. And you?"

"Library. Hey, how are you going home?"

"I just called my dad. He's picking me up." Rush hour on a payday Friday. My dad was going to have to get through at least two hours of bumper-to-bumper traffic to reach school. He hated traffic, but I knew he'd come for me. My family never liked the idea of my commuting alone.

"It'll take hours for him to get here. I can commute with you, you know." He had travelled this route before - the jeepney to the bus stop, the bus to Ayala/LRT/Leveriza, the short walk to my home.

"But it's out of your way," I argued feebly. As if that would make a difference - he'd won this argument before, even though I pointed out that going to my house meant commuting more than thrice the distance to his house, and there was the matter of the lonely commute back. I didn't really mind. I had a hard time staying awake on the long bus ride home, and sleep was dangerous for a girl on public transportation. Conversation kept me up and made the trip bearable.

"I like the company. Besides, it looks like it's going to rain and you don't have an umbrella." He proudly unfurled the checkered umbrella he always brought to school. The umbrella was barely large enough to cover us. The last time it rained, part of my physics textbook got soaked and I spent an hour carefully drying the pages so that they wouldn't stick together.

"Well..." I eyed my still water-stained textbook gingerly.

"C'mon! If we hurry, we can make it to the bus before it starts pouring." He pulled me by the arm. Surprised, I pulled back, but his grasp was firm and my hand fell into his and of _course_ we both blushed and pulled back when we realized what just happened. Nervous giggles.

"Hold on a sec." I slipped my hand inside the bag and fingered the crisp folds of the brand-new umbrella. I bought it yesterday - the smallest umbrella in the store, perfect size for just me and my books. I looked at his umbrella and remembered crowding under it in rain that drowned out all sounds but our laughter.

I let go of my umbrella and brought out the phone instead. "Let me tell my dad."

Going home (third person)

She was so absorbed in the textbook that she did not notice the boy sneaking up on her until he said "boo!" almost in her ear. Startled, she nearly fell off her seat. She glared at him in a disapproving manner and he laughed.

"You're still here? Classes were dismissed two hours ago." He raised an eyebrow.

"Project - had to stay late. My carpool left already. And you?"

"Library. Hey, how are you going home?"

"I just called my dad. He's picking me up." She looked at her watch. It was rush hour on a payday Friday. Her dad would have to fight at least two hours of bumper-to-bumper traffic to reach school. He hated traffic, but he would come for her. Their family did not think it was safe for her to go home alone.

"It'll take hours for him to get here. I can commute with you, you know." The boy had travelled this route before - the jeepney to the bus stop, the bus to Ayala/LRT/Leveriza, the short walk to her house.

"But it's out of your way," she argued feebly. She knew the trip would be more than thrice the distance to his house, and there was the matter of the lonely commute back. A token protest; he had won this argument before. Besides, she had a hard time staying awake on the long bus ride home, and sleep was dangerous for a girl on public transportation. Conversation kept her up and made the trip bearable.

"I like the company. Besides, it looks like it's going to rain and you don't have an umbrella." He proudly unfurled the checkered umbrella he always brought to school. The umbrella was barely large enough to cover them. The last time it rained, part of her physics textbook got soaked and she spent an hour carefully drying the pages so that they wouldn't stick together.

"Well..." She eyed her still water-stained textbook gingerly.

"C'mon! If we hurry, we can make it to the bus before it starts pouring." The boy pulled her by the arm. Instinctively she pulled back, but his grasp was firm and now her hand was in his. A pause - and then both reddened and hastily dropped their hands to their sides. Nervous giggles broke the tension.

"Hold on a sec." The girl slipped her hand inside her bag and fingered the crisp folds of the brand-new umbrella she bought yesterday. It was the smallest umbrella in the store, just enough shelter for her and her books. She looked at his umbrella and she remembered crowding under it in rain that drowned out all sounds but their laughter.

She let go of the umbrella and brought out her phone instead. "Let me tell my dad."

Original

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Page: 2004.01.26
Updated: 2004-11-2119:44:1419:44:14+0800
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