Previously on Phobos and Deimos
I began tapping the keys of my laptop to send a message on Facebook. It was for my college buddy's wife.
"Pakitanong naman kay Darrell kung naging prof namin si Galan nung third year college kami."
A few minutes later, she sent a reply from her husband telling me that Ralph Galan was indeed a teacher in one of our subjects that year.
Solving the question with my buddy's assistance was a relief. After all, the inquiry stems from the utter lack of memory of the teacher, save for an oil pastel drawing I did for his Humanities class.
The topic came up because I took out the paperboard from my wardrobe. It was pinned there for decoration. Its colors have faded, and the exposure of its surface to the elements made it look old and worn out.
Someone might even suggest that I should throw it away.
But with extra cash comes the chance to breathe new life into the oil drawing - to keep it preserved for the years to come. With the Gundam Pilot as my companion, I followed my mother's suggestion and brought the trinket at Central Market. There, an artisan wanted to frame the board in plastic, but I refused her offer.
I told her to frame it in wood.
"Mahal na po magpa-frame ngayon sa kahoy." She said. Her caution fell on deaf ears.
"500 po para sa wooden frame at glass."
"Kasama na ang labor?" I asked. Still, I was ready to go. I would indulge my sentimentality and spend for posterity.
To this day, I only have vague thoughts of the floral drawing, of its creation and even the grade I was given for that piece of work. What urged me to put it in a wooden frame - aside from having those seasonal Brini Maxwell episodes, is that for all the written works under my name,
I've got only a single oil pastel portrait to call my own.