The ashen skies dripped down on the formerly pristine Naval base
like some mud-faucet let loose in a steady and endless race.
A man was fighting his way trough the sludge on a rickety bike
as if he was daring Nature to just go and try to knock him off The Pike.
The sky had stopped showing itself countless hours ago
as the ash fell thick and fast like the worst falling snow.
The man's face was all wrapped up in a cloth to try and avoid breathing in the
poisonous cloud.
But it was useless and if he did not give up soon and seek shelter, the cloth
would become his shroud.
In just a few hours the ash would be piled up around buildings and on rooftops
in huge heaps
as into doorways and windows and cracks the volcanic dust creeps.
Just yesterday, the mountain stood clear and beautiful above Angeles City.
Now to think back upon those days was enough to fill anyone with pity.
Such pure waters and blue skies, green jungles and manicured lawns!
But now, who knows what gray horrors await as the morrow dawns.
All gray, from the World's top to its bottom, or so it would seem.
The halcyon days past, gone as if nought but a dream.
In the Chuckwagon, a local eatery and bar, the girl shifted her position,
uncomfortably, looking out the window aghast at the tremendous transition.
The formerly beautiful flowers and coconut palms had undergone a horrid
transformation
while up the slopes of the farther away mountains, a conflagration
had started, the virgin woods like kindling
as the verdant scenes of nature blooming kept dwindling.
The girl's extremely long hair swung in rhythm to her phermonic
susceptibility,
as she took the last sip of her Long Island Ice Tea.
She rose and, indignant, headed for the door as if nothing was happening
but as she went out into the falling ash, her heart began quickening
and her breathing became rapid and deep
as into her body the foul air began to seep.
She collapsed right there, mere feet from the door.
No one seemed to notice, as no one was there except one guy sweeping the floor
inside the establishment.
Soon, she lay still, a former great beauty, now in her own vomit and
excrement.
Scenes such as this were to repeat themselves many times this night
as people futily tried to go about their business but ultimately gave up the
fight.
A terrible sight, was all of this tragedy amongst the majesty of the past.
Such a downpouring of ash, you would think it could not last.
But it did.
Someday it would have to end, so that the long rebuilding could start.
Ah, Pinatubo, you broke my heart!
-------------------------------------------
mindbringer, 2 March 2013
like some mud-faucet let loose in a steady and endless race.
A man was fighting his way trough the sludge on a rickety bike
as if he was daring Nature to just go and try to knock him off The Pike.
The sky had stopped showing itself countless hours ago
as the ash fell thick and fast like the worst falling snow.
The man's face was all wrapped up in a cloth to try and avoid breathing in the
poisonous cloud.
But it was useless and if he did not give up soon and seek shelter, the cloth
would become his shroud.
In just a few hours the ash would be piled up around buildings and on rooftops
in huge heaps
as into doorways and windows and cracks the volcanic dust creeps.
Just yesterday, the mountain stood clear and beautiful above Angeles City.
Now to think back upon those days was enough to fill anyone with pity.
Such pure waters and blue skies, green jungles and manicured lawns!
But now, who knows what gray horrors await as the morrow dawns.
All gray, from the World's top to its bottom, or so it would seem.
The halcyon days past, gone as if nought but a dream.
In the Chuckwagon, a local eatery and bar, the girl shifted her position,
uncomfortably, looking out the window aghast at the tremendous transition.
The formerly beautiful flowers and coconut palms had undergone a horrid
transformation
while up the slopes of the farther away mountains, a conflagration
had started, the virgin woods like kindling
as the verdant scenes of nature blooming kept dwindling.
The girl's extremely long hair swung in rhythm to her phermonic
susceptibility,
as she took the last sip of her Long Island Ice Tea.
She rose and, indignant, headed for the door as if nothing was happening
but as she went out into the falling ash, her heart began quickening
and her breathing became rapid and deep
as into her body the foul air began to seep.
She collapsed right there, mere feet from the door.
No one seemed to notice, as no one was there except one guy sweeping the floor
inside the establishment.
Soon, she lay still, a former great beauty, now in her own vomit and
excrement.
Scenes such as this were to repeat themselves many times this night
as people futily tried to go about their business but ultimately gave up the
fight.
A terrible sight, was all of this tragedy amongst the majesty of the past.
Such a downpouring of ash, you would think it could not last.
But it did.
Someday it would have to end, so that the long rebuilding could start.
Ah, Pinatubo, you broke my heart!
-------------------------------------------
mindbringer, 2 March 2013
