As I descended the stairs of my boarding house, I braced myself for another day of classes.
The sunlight hit my face as soon as I stepped outside, making me squint instinctively.
But I quickly opened my eyes, realizing I didn’t have much time—I needed to catch a tricycle fast or I’d be late.
I hurried to the roadside, scanning the street for any available rides.
It was 7:05 in the morning, and more and more vehicles began filling the streets.
The once quiet road was now buzzing with the sounds of engines and honking horns.
I kept looking for a ride for about five minutes, hoping one would appear soon.
Then, I spotted an empty tricycle in the distance.
Without hesitation, I waved my hand, signaling that I needed a ride. The driver noticed me and pulled over, coming to a stop just in front of me.
I climbed aboard, grateful to have found a ride.
The trip to the university took longer than usual—about ten minutes—thanks to the growing traffic.
As we approached the large gates of my university, I fished some money out of my pocket for the fare.
When we reached the entrance, I handed the driver my payment, thanked him, and quickly hurried inside.
I could feel the minutes ticking away, and before long, I was rushing through the hallways to reach our classroom.
I arrived just in time, slipping into my seat, catching my breath.
Our class was in full swing when suddenly, my phone beeped, signaling a message.
I glanced at the screen—it was from one of my instructors in our group chat.
The message said that our next class, which was supposed to be face-to-face, had been moved online due to the lack of available rooms.
With the increasing number of students, it seemed our university had run out of space.
After our first subject, my friends and I stepped outside, looking for a spot to sit while attending our online class.
We wandered around for a bit before finding a quiet corner near the hallway in front of the engineering building.
I scanned the building, half-hoping to catch a glimpse of 'him'—Rizal, the guy I couldn’t help but think about. But to my disappointment, he wasn’t there.
With a sigh, I sat down with my friends, trying to focus on the task at hand.
The online class began, but my attention wandered.
The noise from the students milling about and the music blaring from the activity center’s sound system made it impossible to concentrate.
I tried to tune in, but it felt like my mind was elsewhere, lost in the chaos around me.
The class dragged on for what felt like forever, and by the end of it, my friends were all complaining about how hungry they were.
Our grumbling stomachs pushed us to action, and the moment the class ended, we bolted out of the university gates.
It was already 12:10 in the afternoon, and we were starving.
We rushed towards the small eatery we frequented, our pace quickened by the promise of a good meal after a long and tiring morning.
As soon as we stepped into the eatery, I led the way inside.
But in the blink of an eye, my stomach dropped.
YOU ARE READING
POV
Non-FictionLife often presents itself as a series of hurdles, each one taller than the last. These hurdles, though daunting, are not meant to break us but to shape us into who we are meant to be. It is through our darkest nights that we gain the strength to fa...
