Judy dropped me off somewhere in Capitol area after some bonding moments in Ayala Center Cebu. And while walking towards the tricycle stand, I heard two explosions. And saw men running.
Ngano man to? (What was that?) asked a man. I said I did not know.
Pusil to (That was a gun). I thought it was firerackers.
But nobody seemed to care. Nobody saw a gun. Nobody saw whom the men were aiming at. The videoke singer still sang an off-tune song. The barbecue vendor still was busy fanning his fire. The balut vendor stopped shouting however. And except the tricycle drivers who suddenly congregate at the corner of the street, nothing seemed amiss. No pool of blood. No one dead or injured. Just two or three men running away from the scene. Separately.
Life in the city is boring without blood.