From home to school, with a total of 28 kilometers apart and with almost an hour of travel, I still prefer to go home than board a house/room. But with every commute I make, there is nothing extraordinary about it -- just the humdrum flock of people trying to go home after a good day's work.
Last night, however, was different, and I found what I was looking for -- an extraordinaire. After I ran an errand to our college, I scurried out of the office and into the busy thoroughfares of the city. I was aware of how late I was in my meeting with the rest of the officers of the Ambassadors For Christ at McDonald's. Regaining my composure after arrival, I gave them a smile and they smiled back while continuing what was discussed. Later, I found myself already seated inside the bus en route Bayawan. I was hungry, tired, and excited to see my bed.
I stole some nap on the moving vehicle after uttering a short prayer of safety while the rest of the unlucky ones stood beside me, with tight grips on the steel rail. Twenty minutes later, the bus stopped for the nth time to drop a passenger. But before it could accelerate, a sudden screech, a loud thud, and a faint groan were heard almost simultaneously on the back portion of the bus. Everybody had their initial reactions and the once silent bus buzzed with murmurs. I, for one, thought that we had a flat tire. Dang! I was supposed to go home early. Then, a woman at the back screamed in terror. "Ginoo ko. Motor!" (Oh my God! Motorcycle [accident])