Silence screamed like a million voices wanting to be heard.
The audible hustle and bustle of life seemed to fade in the background. People move on; life goes on. And yet you could tell that a drastic change took place. They may not say a word about it but you could read it in their faces.
We were not physically affected by the killer typhoon Haiyan; but our hearts were, its aftermath piercing us like a thousand knives. My uncle and his wife used to live in Tacloban, the city hit the hardest by this monster storm; he thought of the people he knew there and wondered if they survived. My mom was grateful that they moved back here years ago; she could not begin to fathom their fate should they have stayed there and experienced the wrath of Haiyan. The news on tv and the photos in the internet linger in my mind like a restless soul; I am terrified by the thought that Mother Nature can mercilessly sweep an entire city off the face of the earth.
“Why is it so quiet?” I asked my aunt. “We grieve…” she said, her voice an echoed melancholy in the commanding stillness of the night.