I'm a creative writer, non-rhymer, storyteller, and author. I write free verse and narrative literary composition.
Days between 2nd and 6th grades:
I used to hug daddy's back sideways whenever I heard the creepy
howls that echoed outside our homestead at night... I didn't know
if he was aware of me embracing him because he was asleep every
time I happened to hear those growls. I was comforted with him
by my side—my scare dwindled.
The single stemmed rose in a pellucid pouch that my cousin and
I bought out of our humble pockets from our daily allowance
as a Mother's Day gift to our moms when we were still half of our
present height... I can still remember.
Midyears of the 2nd decade of the 21st century:
My siblings and I kissed mommy and daddy after the mass.
The first man, my dad, whom I personally told "I love you"
to—in a reserved vocal tone...
Prior to our slumber, I brushed my lips on mommy's cheek to mind her
Daddy taught me how to stew a milkfish viand.
One of the first cuisines that I cooked for my mom was centinarja
with ground beef.
Fast forward to 2019:
I sang a song of Te amo to mommy through the lyrics of the singing
program that we were watching on the television.
If this is not something to boast, I don't know what is—a list of episodic
snippets that lightened and lengthened their years, as well as mine.