Collectanea

Nameless

On a cold morning, he stands facing the sea, hands on his side-pockets while watching the waves, the seagulls, and some fishing boats from afar. His eyebrows creases, making him look a little bit angry, but the truth is, he's just thinking. The fine lines of his face tell anyone that he's a jolly person, a sociable one.

His eyes are expressive, deep set and a shade of grey. There's a twinkle in it when you see him on a normal day but not today. It seem to have escaped for a while now. There are dark circles under his eyes, evidence of lack of sleep. There must be something bothering him.

He crinkles his perfectly-shaped nose as he inhales the ocean breeze. His lips twitches. Those are the lips any woman in this small town would die for a kiss, some say he's the best kisser among the locals. He talks smooth, too. Anyone would fall whenever he opens that mouth of his-- men, women, children and alike. Nobody could guess where he gets his charm.

He does not try hard to mingle and be well-received. It's like the gods had showered him with every good attribute and he uses them in the most possible way he'll benefit.

Too bad this fine young man is a hooker. He charms his way through foreign matrons who often visits this island just to earn for a living. He uses his looks to live his cruel life.

His life story is an open book among the locals. He was an orphan at a very young age. His mother died giving birth to him while his father left him five years later with a bucketful of grudges which at that time he didn't understand yet. With no relatives to look after him he began to live alone. He learned the hard ways way too soon.

Beneath his almost-perfect appearance lies a deep set of scars. His cool façade hides a painful past.

And as he watches the vast ocean in front of him, he thinks of his life. Of what it had been like, had become, and what will it be.

-ds-