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Oriental Masks

Oriental Masks
Photo by Jefferson Solayao, 2016

Friday, June 9, 2017

Friday afternoon in the smoking area of the Cubao Hogwarts Espresso Station. Angelique is sitting with a chocolate hazelnut drink inside the cafe. We are both waiting for Aubrey to text-message that her session with our family dentist is over.

It is a rainy afternoon. I have never sat here like this before. I am mulling over the fact that the care of children's teeth, when taken seriously, is as expensive as their tuition.

The sky is a dirty white. From where I am I see a brightly lighted, red "Full" sign at the entrance to a parking basement. Above, I see the phrase "IS THE LORD" on top of a building. The tiles on the pavement are as wet and as slick as mirrors. White frangipani flowers fall in a shower like bridal confetti.

The cloud mothers tell me that they scudded all the way from Singapore, where it also rained, and where some of my workshop participants were also sitting down to coffee.

I almost feel as though the workshop participants will walk by me.

Because I am here and I am there.