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Then she stood up and faced me again, waiting. She looked adorable in her rain outfit."You can take your glasses off." She did so, placing them on the desk. "Get your purse. Do you have any money?"She picked up a small red cloth purse from the table next to her bed and looked inside, then back at me. "Some," she said. Twenty-three dollars and some change." Alright, come on." I took her hand and headed toward the door."Where are we going?" she asked as I pulled the door open."Shopping." When we reached the front door of her building I put up the umbrella I'd brought and led her to the side of the nearby road, to the place where the campus shuttle busses stopped. There was a plexiglas shelter there, which was enclosed on three sides and had a roof and a bench. We went inside; fortunately the rain was being blown from behind the shelter and I was able to put my umbrella down. I told Carol to stand by the bench and sat down next to her. We had the shelter to ourselves. There was hardly. Let us go then you and I as the Philippine sunset is plastered blood red against the sky. Do not remind me how my hair is growing thin, the waves splash cold against my skin. John’s Banka boat cuts through the foam-crested blue-green waves of the south Asian Sulu Sea. John is troubled by the eternal question: “Do I dare disturb the universe?” John’s mind wanders as he digresses lost in a fog of ennui. The soft ocean breeze triggers memories, fading distant memories, hints of the scented perfume from her coral colored dress tease his brain with almost recalled remembrances. Was she wearing a wrap? A shawl? Was she wearing either at all? John ponders and then ponders further, feeling old and tired, his mind deserting him, the sea breeze turning cold. John was “lost” again, his soul cast adrift, his moorings dislodged. He was once again trudging heavy footed through this vale of tears—valle lacrimarum! What was the point of it all? John asked himself the existential question as he.
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