IT was this year’s Art Festival. Free art lectures and workshops here and there. Amateur and professional artists and art enthusiasts alike swarmed in the venue.
I was so engrossed with the lecturer’s discussion on the Classical Revival that I didn’t notice when a girl sat beside me. When I finally did, the first thing I noticed were her clothes. She was wearing a uniform from a certain university–long sleeved white polo blouse with a black necktie and a black and white checkered skirt. It was Sunday but there she was, fully dressed for school.
She was looking away as if staring at the wall so I didn’t have a good look at her face.
The other attendees didn’t seem to notice her. I thought maybe because we were at the last row.
Then she turned to me suddenly. My heart jumped to my mouth. Her eyesockets were two gaping empty black holes dripping with blood–lots of blood!
I backed away in shock and fell to the floor with a violent jerk, only to realize that it was all a dream. The fat guy beside me obviously noticed.
I guess it served me right for dozing off in the middle of a lecture. But that girl really creeped me out.
THE END
Art & Fiction + Philippine Folklore & Mythology 