Bottled Dreams

A man takes a jar from the
cabinet and sees it a few
days near its expiration
date. He peels the perforated
seal off the jar and unscrews the cap.
It doesn’t budge. He takes a towel,
covers the surface of the cap. Twists.
He shakes the jar gently, yet firmly. Twists.
It doesn’t budge.

He takes a few steps to
the kitchen counter. Grabs a
sharp knife. He pushes the knife in the
narrow space between the glass and the
tin lid. He stabs it around the lid. He lets go
of the knife, holds the jar with both of his hands.
Turns the cap.
Still does not budge.

He throws the whole jar in the
black garbage bag.

He ties the black garbage bag,
sealing it forever.


Note: A poem I wrote for our Advanced Creative Writing class held at the Filipinas Heritage Library.