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By Drexler P. Vallejo

I came in contact with the old wooden bench while making myself comfortable.

I glanced around me, delighted at the sight of people’s smiling, and familiar faces.

Yet, I was taken aback at the distinct figure of a sad silhouette right at the corner, over the end of the benches.

I gradually move towards her. I reached my hand to touch her, lightly causing some strands or her long black hair to sway.

My eyes widened as scenes flashed like exhibit of her experiences. It almost seemed that dark clouds came to always follow her around.

She has never smiled. I haven’t seen her try. I bet she didn’t even know what “smile” means.

Without hesitation, I held her hand to mine, then a slight flinched at the tip of her mouth was formed.

Then on, she has always been happy because of the magic that lies in my hand.

Now I know why I was given the gift of touch.

Drexler Parojinog Vallejo is a Grade 12 student, and is currently studying at Bislig City National High School. He likes to play basketball, and hang out with his friends.

Artwork courtesy of Fine Art America

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