This was where it all started.
Beer and cigarettes and talking. Lots of talking. There used to be a kiosk there. Back when campus kiosks were allowed to serve beer. Back when beer was allowed on campus. Back when drinking in an on-campus kiosk was all we could afford.
The kiosk had books for sale. Books. We bonded over books. We talked about what we had read and how it affected our lives. About how we sought solace in them. About how they saved us. We talked. A lot.
Years passed. The kiosk is gone. Long before the pandemic hit, they closed it down. They closed the whole building down. Condemned to the wrecking ball. Tear down the old to pave way for the new. Soon. Meanwhile, it stays in limbo. Abandoned, but not quite. Sought by some diehard fanatic in the middle of a pandemic. Immortalized digitally before it turns to dust. As it gathers dust.
Years passed. Drinking in fancy bars and restaurants. Wine tasting in vineyards even. But the talking is gone. Long before the pandemic hit, the talking was gone. Doors slammed shut, souls padlocked. And we stay in limbo. Together but not quite. Seeking solace in our solitude in the middle of a pandemic. Doomed as our relationship gathers dust. As our hearts turn to dust.
Is this where it will end?
(photo: behind Vinzon Hall, UP Diliman. Downloaded from Facebook, credits to the owner - no copyright infringement intended. Please message me for proper citation.)