Killing Lies (English-Tagalog)
The wind moved across the rooftop, pulling at the loose strands of his hair, curling them around his face.
He dug into his pocket and pulled out a folded photograph. A picture of someone I hadn't seen before—a young man with a bright, easy smile, hair tousled like he'd been caught in the sun. Keilser held it as if it weighed less than air and more than stone at the same time.
He kept the picture and strung the guitar again. At first, it was tentative, a thread of a melody. Then he sang, soft, low, a lament stretched across the night. half-lullaby, half-dirge.
Sikat na Kabanata