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papa osmubal
oscar balajadia SETTING: The stage is prepared for the audience to admire. There are trees. Behind the trees is the dim moon and all over around the trees are all sorts of rubbish. From behind the trees comes out a homeless, dirty beggar, silently and hopelessly scavenging through refuse. From time to time he stands and travels his palm on his back, obviously trying to locate the pain. He cannot find anything from the garbage, so again he has nothing to eat tonight. He picks plastic bags and wraps them around his bare feet. It is freezing cold tonight. Then he walks near to one of the trees (where a microphone is mounted) and, with teary eyes and exhausted mien, he shouts on the top of his lungs...


Curtains close and lights go off.

Audience claps, their jewelry shaking and tinkling.

[About the author. Papa Osmubal is Oscar Balajadia of Magalang (Well, don't get fooled by that name), now a Macau resident (Sorry, where?) and married to a Chinese local (How? How come? Why?). He has been a Catholic seminarian (OK, he once opened a book at an exam in Latin and Romance Languages---but who in frigging hell did not?), a Catholic missionary (Oh, the rosary is the answer to our country's economic problems and to your alcoholism and addiction to nicotine!), a bookstore staffer (Yes, sir, listen here, we know it is urgent, so your book is on its way from Guangzhou and will be here in 8 months!), a librarian (Oh, it's Friday the 13th and I am not putting 666 as Dewey call number on this bloody book!), and a teaching assistant (OK, pal, I know you prepared for the exams so I will check and mark them!). He is currently a teacher (yawn) and has an M.A. in English Studies (yawn even more, nod off, and then snore) from the University of Macau (sorry again, where?).]

-Posted: 8:56 AM 1/2/09 | More of this author on eK!