after the storm.
slowly, very slowly, the sun reveals itself. something glints below. like a pearl, or a diamond, or a silver. just a coin. a one-peso coin.
slowly, very slowly, someone lifts up his head, half-blinded by the sudden light. he rises up from the muddy earth, very carefully, as if every bone in his body has been broken.
the sun hides behind the passing clouds.
something stirs on the mud. a figure rises up. then many figures are rising up. slowly, very slowly, thousands of figures rise up. each holds a banner soaked in dirt and blood.
the wind blows. the thunder breaks the silence. the rain falls. droplets wash away the mud and the dirt and the blood, showing thousands of naked swollen blistered and wounded bodies, revealing white banners high up in the air.
slowly, very slowly, the sun reveals itself, again.
heads face the eastern sky, arms outstretched while feeling the warmth and embracing the light. and then a voice makes a triumphant scream. from everywhere come naked people, running and walking on mud and through water, laughing, wailing, screaming, joining hands.
and in the midst of it all, slowly, very slowly, a flower announces its birth.