Stacey Suarez
IT WAS A FORMAL ang sophisticated invitation from Pueblo Stanza ang hawak ni Eric. Napanguso siya at pinitik ang papel na hawak niya bago tumingin sa akin. He smiled and shrugged his shoulder.
“Pinadala ni Shaynah sa akin. I don’t know if she is trying to mock me or what.”
“Baka naman gusto ka talaga niyang imbitahan.”
“That’s a lame reason, tingin niya ba pupunta ako?” bago pa ako makasagot ay bumukas na ang pintuan ng dating store na binilhan namin noon ng painting malapit sa resort. Ngayon mukhang souvenir na lang ang binibenta nila.
Luckily, it was the same person who entertained us the last time we got here.
“Yes? Souvenir ba? Marami rito. Couple shirts, bracelets, necklace—“
“I’m sorry, but we are looking for the person who owns this painting. We bought that
