How much should one think about the past? Two weeks into summer break and I'm reminiscing. It seems a bit premature. 

When we share stories, the funny stuff comes to mind first, then the gossip, and the scary, the hate. Not in a particular order, but the funny always comes first. 

Most of these memories come from elementary school. Memories take time to be funny, or sad, or scary. Yesterday was still too fresh. There was this time when one of my classmates brought a knife to school. It was a red paring knife, with a matching red sheath. He was going to stab or at least had the intention to stab another guy that was the current boyfriend of his ex. Oh, young love. It is disturbing and scary even when it was happening, but years after, it seems so stupid and funny, the scary is pale. 

Two birds are sitting on a guava tree. They are bigger than a sparrow, at least twice. Brown, white, and a bit of yellow. One flew, the other followed. I haven’t seen a sparrow these days, not as much as I did before. Sparrows seemed to litter the streets and electrical lines before, maybe they migrated. 

When the sun rests over the mountain range, and the people are back in the streets en-route to their homes, the sky is heavy and loud with birds. They circle and dance around trees, hopping to and fro in clusters. The sidewalks and the benches outside the municipal offices are white with their shit, but the birds were pretty to look at. I haven’t identified what type of birds they were.