Eating spongy angel cakes.
They were delicious! Lasang Red Ribbon mamon. I took four of them and devoured it happily. My Dad asked to be transferred near the TV; my Mum was seated somewhere near. Ella was somewhere in the background watching TV too. We were complete. We were happy.
Daddy looked up expectantly and told me not to go to the far (southern) end of Mount Makiling.
I answered, “Sure, Daddy.” I didn’t get why, but it’s not as if I’ll be trekking there anytime soon anyway. I ate another angel cake.
There was that feeling I miss in the pit of my stomach --- that utter dependability that you are happy to the core of your spirit because the simple things in life that you wanted were at hand.
Spongy angel cakes.
Daddy. Mummy. Family.
Then I woke up.
I dare you to tell me right now this isn’t a cruel, cruel world.