(Inspired by the short story Sunspot by Luigi Perandillo)

They met in one of the inconspicuous areas of the department store. They agreed to meet at two in the afternoon but it took them three hours to play hide and seek until they ended up seeing each other’s face, aside from several exchanges of semi-nude pictures before, for the first time in person at 5:23.

It was not their first time to have, what members of the younger generation call ‘eyeball’, what for them is a modified version of blind date except for the absence of a party that instigates the meet up. They’ve had the same when they were younger, although the means of conducting it, establishing contact, was rather crude during their time, a decade ago. The fundamental aspects remain the same-the thrill, excitement, disappointment, rejections, surpassing expectations, or falling in love sometimes.


They found themselves inside a motel in Cubao. They made love as if they were lovers. They spent each other. They kissed after, this time, less passionately; passion being replaced by genuine feeling of compassion.

It occurred to them that this is one of those encounters that are not supposed to last, to lead into something deeper. It has to end right there and then. They wore their clothes, in reverse order, without looking at each other. One of them offered to pay the bill for the room; the other agreed. Not talking to each other, they entered the taxi, ordered the driver to stop in a crowded bus stop in Boni, alighted from the taxi, and went on their separate ways.

They forgot to ask for each other’s number; they did not bother to ask for each other’s name. No nothing. But both knew that what they felt during that moment was love, if only it lasted longer.

They are both approaching the downhill slope of their lives, but for reasons they don’t know, they opted not to ask anything for the thought of what could have been, was for them more powerful than love itself.