Milenyo rampaged through Manila today. I woke up to Lucien sniffling in the dark. It was almost 7 in the morning. (When I got home last night he had a bad cold and was wailing – I could hear him while I was still walking down the corridor.)
It’s now 3:25. We’re in the conference room, still working. Most of the other guys who made it to work have gone back home. The winds have abated. The rainfall is gentler, not the thunderous assault it was the entire morning. Bits of buildings lie on the streets. Trees rest in peace on carpark cement. In the distance, a riot of fog, the uprising of condensation from the Bay colliding with molecules of cold air and the crackle of electrons carried within the storm.
We were in the eye of Milenyo, and it’s on the move again.