The Longest Day And The Longest Night

Discussion in 'Magazine Article Writing' started by John Mark M. Delos Santos, Sep 18, 2017.

  1. Three o’clock in the morning, I’m quite sure of that… I hear it! The door again… I can hear that continuous paddling of the main door, the smashing sound. I can feel the temper of a person doing it and impatiently roaring the sound reaching every corner of that rough sleeping quarters. “Reveille, reveille, reveille” Withered is my body and it wants be still lying on my bunks never to comply, even my eyes for that every moments do not belongs to me. My mind complains… How could this be? I feel… I thought…. It’s not so long I slept, it’s not so long after taps… Though I might complain but still neither it can be voiced nor turn to action in my favour, I am now in the inside of a cold tight mould that never had sentiment never had chord.

    How persistent that person at the midst of that concrete threshold, yowling his anger and paddling the wooden door. He stands with the authority we all bound, he is the mould… he is the mould… He shape us……
     

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