Zo coughed and waved one hand pass his face, clearing the cigarette smoke from his black eyes. He exited Route 196 and paced the obscure streets of Katipunan Avenue. After he moved his fingers in an uncanny motion, a black haze started to take shape in front of him.
“There you go again with the time travel games,” uttered Jake.
“I can teach you how to make a worm hole so that you could time travel with me and help me destroy black holes!”
“What about assholes? Can you teach me how to make them?” said Jake, with amusement.
“Oh shut up!”
Zo turned to Jake saying, “I have been haunted by dreams these past few days. Ever since I woke up in this Tangent Universe, I have had dreams telling me that the fabric of the Fourth Dimension has becomes corrupted. And this is incredibly rare.”
“I thought you couldn’t remember where you came from.”
Zo rolled his eyes saying, “You do not realize that all around you, your man-made world is collapsing. Nothing is static, everything is devolving, and everything is falling apart.”
Jake had seldom heard his friend speak with such intensity of feeling.
They had been out for one of their evening rambles in Katipunan, Zo and Jake, and had returned about eleven o’clock, past dorm curfew.
“The incredibly strong gravitational field inside would tear apart every atom in my body. Even if it turns out to be a wormhole, the forces inside could still be deadly,” Jake reasoned as he turned on the lamp of their room.
“Well, I’m afraid I can’t help you, Zo,” said Jake. “The fact is that I think there are certain things which I cannot force myself into.”
“So you waste your time spending one-third of every day in a deathlike state of suspended animation known as sleep.”
Photographed by Mon Garilao
Photographed by Cara Figueras
Ang Basilika ng Taal, Batangas