There is nothing




I am clinging to You for I am very weak...

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God Sees the Truth But Waits

by: Leo Tolstoy

In the town of Vladimir lived a young merchant named Ivan Dmitrich Aksionov. He had two shops and a house of his own.

Aksionov was a handsome, fair-haired, curly-headed fellow, full of fun, and very fond of singing. When quite a young man he had been given to drink, and was riotous when he had had too much; but after he married he gave up drinking, except now and then.

One summer Aksionov was going to the Nizhny Fair, and as he bade good-bye to his family, his wife said to him, "Ivan Dmitrich, do not start to-day; I have had a bad dream about you."

Aksionov laughed, and said, "You are afraid that when I get to the fair I shall go on a spree."

His wife replied: "I do not know what I am afraid of; all I know is that I had a bad dream. I dreamt you returned from the town, and when you took off your cap I saw that your hair was quite grey."

Aksionov laughed. "That's a lucky sign," said he. "See if I don't sell out all my goods, and bring you some presents from the fair."

So he said good-bye to his family, and drove away.

When he had travelled half-way, he met a merchant whom he knew, and they put up at the same inn for the night. They had some tea together, and then went to bed in adjoining rooms.

It was not Aksionov's habit to sleep late, and, wishing to travel while it was still cool, he aroused his driver before dawn, and told him to put in the horses.

Then he made his way across to the landlord of the inn (who lived in a cottage at the back), paid his bill, and continued his journey.

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New Yorker in Tondo

by: Marcelino Agana, Jr.

SCENE: The parlor of the Mendoza house in Tondo. Front door is at right. Curtained window is at left. Left side of stage is occupied by a rattan set –sofa and two chairs flanking a table. On the right side of the stage, a cabinet radio stands against a back wall. Open door-way in center, background, leads into the rest of the house.

MRS. M: (As she walks toward the door) –Visitors, always visitors. Nothing but visitors all day long. Naku, I’m beginning to feel like a society matron.
(She opens door. Tony steps in, carrying a bouquet. Tony is 26, dressed to kill, and is the suave type. Right now, however, he is feeling a trifle nervous. He starts slightly on seeing Mrs. Mendoza.)
MRS. M : Tony! I thought you were in the provinces.
TONY : (Startling) –But is that you, Aling Atang?
MRS. M : ( Laughing) --- Of course. It’s I, foolish boy. Who did you think it was
…Carmen Rosales?
TONY : You …you don’t look like Aling Atang.
MRS. M : (shyly touching her boyish bob) – I had my hair cut. Do I look
so horrible?
TONY : Oh, no, no … you look just wonderful, Aling Atang. For a moment I
thought you were your own daughter. I thought you were Kikay.
MRS. M : (Playfully slapping his cheek) --- Oh, you are as palikero as ever, Tony. But come in, come in. (She moves toward the furniture and Tony follows.) Here, sit down, Tony. How is your mother?
TONY : (As he sits down, still holding the bouquet) --- Oh, poor mother is terribly
homesick for Tondo, Aling Atang. She wants to come back here at once.
MRS. M : (Standing beside his chair, putting on an apron) – How long have you
been away?
TONY : Only three months

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