Labourer

The new labourer was buggered by smoko.

He's a labourer on a riverboat.

He's a labourer.

In the morning of the 9th of November of 2021, as I entered the cafe, a muscular white man with black hair in grey and blue clothing entered before me. As it was full inside, I had to drink my iced oat milk at a table outside. Then, I ate two slices of pizza at my friend Rose's pizzeria. Nearby, a big labourer exclaimed, "You think the Netherlands is a different province..."

The 2nd of March of 2022 was somewhat uneventful. I went to the pizzeria in the morning. There were some old folk with white hair. Homebound, I saw on the sidewalk an Oriental boy squatting, wearing orange and yellow. He got up and walked away. Some landscapers were at a yard. There was an orange-vested handsome labourer fiddling with his machine tool by his vehicle. For lunch and dinner at home, it seemed special with steamed tofu and fish on rice.

Peter is a labourer.

I walked at night, here on Lulu Island. As I entered Starbucks café, sitting at a table with two Doritos bags of chips, one purple and one red, were Peter the redheaded Anglo and Hans the Netherlander on a motorized wheelchair, who offered to me. I took a few chips from both bags. Then, I was drinking reddish Passion Tango iced tea, then Oat Nog Latte. I was munching on crème brûlée almonds. I was exercising with my hand grip strengthener at my table. There were a regular couple with seemingly American spoken accents. The man was a handsome white-haired bear, always wearing a sports outfit. At Hans' request after he exited, Peter gave the purple Doritos bag to me and the red one to Chris the Japanese-English hybrid, who was a barista. The other barista was Jessica the petite Vietnamese. There were Filipino customers. Jessica asked me if I knew what was "lomi" (a Filipino noodle dish). I said that it was "rāmen." Homebound, walking, I accidentally tripped on a wooden board in a dark alleyway. My eyeglasses fell off. Luckily, I was not hurt. A Cantonese labourer helped me. Today is the 14th of December of 2024.

I tripped in the alleyway in the darkness, as I crashed my knees on the asphalt. There was a wooden board that covered a wire between houses across the alleyway. It was very dark there at night. My eyeglasses fell off my face. Luckily, a Cantonese labourer with a flashlight helped me. My knees just got scraped. I remember another time when I crashed on my knees. It was at Don José Heights in Quezon City in the Philippines. There was a vastness of Martianesque red soil, wherein the "talahib" grass grew. Sometimes, workers intentionally set the grass on fire. My brother and I were still playing, even then, outside. We were still prepubescent. Near burning grass, I stumbled on my knees. My grandmother, Lola Bebe, was so angry. A maid washed my legs in the big tiled sink behind the garage.

I am a labourer.

This time was most dreadful for Lilian. Thrown on her own resources and almost penniless, she maintained herself and paid the rent of a wretched room near the hospital by working as a charwoman, sempstress, anything. In a moment she had dropped to the level of a casual labourer.