You are on a bench at Henry grounds. Your stomach rumbles. The wind is cold on your face. Something is wrong.

You sigh a heavy sigh. Life is horrible. You can’t seem to find happiness.

“Fear not, my child.”

You look around, but there is no one.

“Look to the skies, little one.”

You look up. And there he is. Archer is looking down on you in his true form.

“One day, you will join me. So fear not, my child.”

A tear forms in your eye.

#TaftEncounters

— Westin Perez

 

With trembling fingers you unlock the rusted steel door.

What you saw next raised every hair on your body: identical bodies wearing Stan Smiths, oversized polos, and short shorts, hanging from a metal conveyor belt.

They all opened their eyes at the same time and gave a guttural scream:

“GH ‘TO GAAAAAAAA!”

#TaftEncounters

— Glenielle Nanglihan

 

It was a warm day, yet it was not the harsh sun rays that enveloped me.

Am I a masochist who enjoys being burned alive? Maybe I find joy in a warm embrace?

As I thought of the answer, my second bite of Ate Rica’s Bacsilog—

I am the Bacsilog.

#TaftEncounters

— William Ong

 

After a long night of studying in Goks,

You make your way back to your condo.

You walk at the side of the road, basking in the early morning air.

Then, you feel it.

Your chest feels heavier, head throbbing

You stand there, frozen.

The smell was paralyzing.

Techtite.

#TaftEncounters

— Sophia Cruz