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| A sculpture on a rubble, Port Adelaide, S.A. |
His eyeballs were gradually
drowning, he could feel it… then he simply just couldn’t hold it back, so it started to
overflow.
Rogelio Pagoto quickly glanced over the rear-view mirror of his 1999 blue Toyota Starlet to check the traffic behind him. The Horrocks Highway was empty so all he saw on that rounded and rectangular mirror was the reflection of his damp eyelashes, deeply injected sclera, and a tear drop that was uncontrollably flowing down the medial canthus of his left eye.
For quite a few kilometres now, he had been driving haphazardly. He never did notice the violent gust and the wind-blown dust outside. After a few years of losing the sensation for pain, it had all changed this afternoon; the emotional numbness seemed to have started to wane off as he felt his heart bursting out of his chest. He released his right foot off the accelerator as he drove downhill; it was then when he caught the sight of that thick, heavy clouds hovering above the expanse of the flowering wheat field—perfectly concealing the splendor of the late afternoon, mid spring sun.
“He must have been tired of hearing my prayers… I have been asking for this for ages now but He seemed to have been ignoring me,” he thought as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. The vehicle he was driving accelerated uphill, disregarding the 100 kph speed limit.
Yes, Rogelio was wondering why his prayer had remained unanswered. He knew he was so blessed to have been enjoying all the comforts he had for quite a while but the divine intervention he’d been requesting for the sake of a loved one back home was, for so long, yet to be granted! Even those countless votive candles he'd lit in the shrines and altars of the churches he had visited didn't work, the intercession just didn't happen.
With his Sony Nex-5 and his tripod in his backpack sitting on the passenger seat, he drove aimlessly through the Main North Road wishing to eventually find a great subject to photograph so he could, somehow, suppress the disturbing emotions he’d been bearing all day. It started to drizzle so he had to turn his wiper on to mop the raindrop splatters off the windshield. Using the back of his hand, he cleared that drip of a salty liquid off his left cheek, too.
At the moment, he was certainly unsure whether to keep his faith or to give up his belief that one day it would all be worth the wait.
.
Rogelio Pagoto quickly glanced over the rear-view mirror of his 1999 blue Toyota Starlet to check the traffic behind him. The Horrocks Highway was empty so all he saw on that rounded and rectangular mirror was the reflection of his damp eyelashes, deeply injected sclera, and a tear drop that was uncontrollably flowing down the medial canthus of his left eye.
For quite a few kilometres now, he had been driving haphazardly. He never did notice the violent gust and the wind-blown dust outside. After a few years of losing the sensation for pain, it had all changed this afternoon; the emotional numbness seemed to have started to wane off as he felt his heart bursting out of his chest. He released his right foot off the accelerator as he drove downhill; it was then when he caught the sight of that thick, heavy clouds hovering above the expanse of the flowering wheat field—perfectly concealing the splendor of the late afternoon, mid spring sun.
“He must have been tired of hearing my prayers… I have been asking for this for ages now but He seemed to have been ignoring me,” he thought as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. The vehicle he was driving accelerated uphill, disregarding the 100 kph speed limit.
Yes, Rogelio was wondering why his prayer had remained unanswered. He knew he was so blessed to have been enjoying all the comforts he had for quite a while but the divine intervention he’d been requesting for the sake of a loved one back home was, for so long, yet to be granted! Even those countless votive candles he'd lit in the shrines and altars of the churches he had visited didn't work, the intercession just didn't happen.
With his Sony Nex-5 and his tripod in his backpack sitting on the passenger seat, he drove aimlessly through the Main North Road wishing to eventually find a great subject to photograph so he could, somehow, suppress the disturbing emotions he’d been bearing all day. It started to drizzle so he had to turn his wiper on to mop the raindrop splatters off the windshield. Using the back of his hand, he cleared that drip of a salty liquid off his left cheek, too.
At the moment, he was certainly unsure whether to keep his faith or to give up his belief that one day it would all be worth the wait.
.
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