Looks like a long, drizzly night in Cubao.

I remember nights like this when I was a Grade School boy and our house was one of only a few houses on the street. That was long before insecticides and other chemicals were the cologne spray of the city. There were frogs and turtles in the garden, and beetles that we could keep in boxes for pets. Whenever I looked out the front door that opened onto the porch, I would see only darkness.

This is the Cubao I can only write about and can never explain in full to my children and my grandchildren.