Ninya Buenavidez
“Mother!” Tita Ade called with an accent and smiled. “Someone wants to talk to you,” masayang paalam nito at ginalaw ang laptop para itutok sa matandang namumula ang ilong.
Because her nose is reddish, it somehow brings color to her pale skin. Nasa ayos pa rin ang itim na buhok na sigurado akong ginagawan niya lagi ng paraan para matakpan ang pamumuti ng iilang hibla nito. There are wrinkles on her face, but it doesn’t surprise me anymore dahil noon pa man ay nariyan na ito. Mas tumanda lamang siyang tignan.
“Oh my! Ninya!” She directly focused on me like I was the only person she was seeing right now. Hinablot na nito ang laptop sa kanyang anak. “You finally call me!” she hissed and tears started to form on her eyes. Bigla tuloy akong nasaktan sa pag-iwas ko sa kanya
