There were hundreds upon thousands of them, moving down the narrowing section of the Epifanio de los Santos Avenue as if in silent protest against the corrupt regime of a debilitated government. No banners were raised in this march of the masses this time however. No music-interwoven insults were chanted. No stage was raised at the foot of the massive metal madonna whose outstretched hands held immobile beams of concrete hope.
This was no revolution unfolding upon the main road known as EDSA.
It was well past the third hour of the afternoon and the sun hung closer towards the horizon. A comfortably chilly November such as this would typically be punctuated by the blare of car horns, the groan and rumble of privately-owned buses and the self-serving sirens of the escorted public officials whose cars (regardless of whom rode in them) were given priority and enforced passage through the traffic slowed streets. Instead, there was an ominous lingering silence. The uneasy peace of quiet blanketed the area was reminiscent of ghost towns and movie cities that had been ravaged by the hordes of the undead or the undiscriminating touch of plague.
And that was quite an apt comparison.
For indeed Manila was infected with plague.
A plague of the hungry and the walking dead.
Read more at: http://garapata.blogspot.com/2009/11/nanowrimo-2009-entry-surviving-manila.html