It was the morning when the DPWH started road repair on their street. Sarya carried an aluminum tray from the kitchen to the living room. She glanced out of the window and saw a worker poised to drill the asphalt with a jackhammer. She shook her head. DPWH projects took forever, the workers moving as though half-asleep. What an inconvenience, specially on market days. She would have to use planks to get the car out of the garage.
The staccato sound of the drill on concrete pierced through the windows like rapid fire.
“Take cover! Enemy fire!” Kadyo shouted and ducked behind the sofa.
Sarya was startled by the guttural sound of his voice. The tray slid from her hands, the cup and saucer fell, spilling coffee on Kadyo before clattering and shattering on the crazy-cut marble floor.
“Enemy
