To treat himself, he decides to get a luxury Cebuano hanging rice (puso) that will probably cost him two months' worth of fresh bottles. The excise tax has exponentially increased, so this would be a significant blow to his finances.
He would have to wear the most intricate and well-protected clothes he has in his possession for this particular day. As he scouts his clothes in his small rack, his hands itch to the texture of his outdoor clothes. It has been three weeks since he got out.
He picks a latex bodysuit that covers his pale skin from neck to toes. He puts on a recently-designed jacket that carries his fresh bottle like a backpack. His water-resistant pants go all the way down to his red high boots.
It is pretty hard living here, but he endures its vulnerability. He should adapt to rapidly changing conditions by constantly studying rowing and manipulating his torque to adjust a certain balance, especially to sudden windy days.
His place is only 15 square meters in area, but it’s a sturdy place even during December when the winds become the monsters he fears. He has a small bed enough for his thin body with a sea-smell toilet bowl closely beside it.
Many times, when big water droplets knock on his boxy roof, the solid metal walls feel icy, and his body feels like it is going to freeze to death. On sunny days, his throat is parched, and his esophagus's lining is desert he didn’t anticipate.
…but today is Dodong’s birthday.
He hopes it will be a fine day. Although his stomach growls and he feels a little light-headed, his heart remains determined to make this day memorable.
He placed his bottles behind him like a backpack and unrolled the long thin tube to connect it to his nostrils. Fresh air has never felt so good before.
He takes a heavy sigh of adventure as he opens the door to see the outside world.
It is not a fine day.
It’s windy and cold.
He steps on his boat, detaches the rope from his sturdy floating box house, and starts to grow towards the big red building near the horizon in this vast ocean of black waters.
Despite the highly insulated bodysuit, his body is shaking. The winds are unusually stronger today, and the dark clouds are revolving around him. Just like this place, he, too, has become vulnerable.
As he begins to row, the winds slap hard on his head. He falls with his boat, and his energy wasn’t enough for him to kick himself up as the waters rush in him as if he belongs here. Dodong sinks from the surface, and all he can see is darkness.
Today is Dodong’s birthday. Nothing special; instead, a typical day in Cebu.
This is my attempt to write a dystopian narrative of what Cebu would be like if we continue producing Carbon footprints without concerns for Sustainable Development. See references for the basis of future claims:
[1] https://www.nytimes.com/2019/01/17/upshot/how-to-think-about-the-costs-of-climate-change.html
[2] https://cebudailynews.inquirer.net/51807/cebu-city-vulnerable-to-climate-change-study
[3] http://theconversation.com/climate-research-needs-to-change-to-help-communities-plan-for-the-future-113427
[4] https://www.philstar.com/cebu-news/2009/12/17/532823/global-warming-could-sink-cebu
