By the Bay
I took a walk along the seawall by the Mall of Asia, and looked far out into the water. Despite the rank smell of trash and seawater, the bay looked serene. The big mall and all its cheery Christmas lights cast reflections on the water; much as I hate malls and open bodies of water, the sight was quite… well, cute.
It was quite weird to be walking there on your own, when every couple was on a date, and every family was out strolling. Kids were launching these glowstick-propellers, and caught them as they slowly descended into the ground. Couples were cozy together on the park benches, and perhaps the other side of the mall was filled with hurried and harried parents buying groceries for noche buena. I was alone.
Go figure, this has always been the case for me for the most part.
I took a puff of my cigarette and looked out into the throng of people strolling, walking, seated, whatever they were doing. A small concert was just around the corner.
Then, a short rainshower. No one ran to the mall. No one took cover. Everyone just enjoyed the night. The children still launched the glowsticks, the couples were still on the bench, the people were still walking along the park.
Here’s to Christmas, I whispered, and walked back to the mall to the tune of piped-in Christmas carols. I guess that I found out what Christmas really means.