kei-ruts

I always loved sunrise. I loved gazing at the changing hues as the sun slowly woke up because I knew that in a few minutes the aroma of coffee would tickle my senses into overdrive.

One Friday morning, I found myself strapped in seat 24D of flight 842. Trying to get comfortable in the cramped space, I happened to glance at my right and paused with a hand almost dropping my coffee-filled styro cup. Turquoise, Emerald and Cyan fought to dominate the scene. I stared in awe, unblinking as pleasant baktin-hood memories and countless dawn trips to Bantayan rushed through my mind’s eye. I continued to gape when Orange started to wage a slow war against Emerald. I gazed in horror as I associated the color with a hated crop some people reverently refer to as carrots. As I felt a rusty taste at the back of my tongue, I gulped down my coffee and almost jumped in my seat. I just burned my tongue! Ugh, carrots!