Taxis have names here. So do cars, somtimes. As do jeepneys. And so do trucks, their monikers spread across the side doors or their back grilles. I saw one the other day, glossy in green and white: SAD LOOKING MOON. On the side of the vehicle, another familiar sign: NOT 4 RENT.
I suddenly, inexplicably felt sadness, almost pity, for the owner. For who would name their truck such a thing? Was the owner the 'sad looking moon'? Was it his own nickname, or that given to him by his wife, or mother, or son? Was his truck the moon itself? His and his alone, not available for another's use? Did he want to horde his own unhappiness? Did he sometimes, at night, look up at the moon, and see nothing but doom and gloom?
I imagine him leaning against his truck in his driveway, late at night, after the wife and kids have hit the hay. He is smoking a cigarette, his third after dinner. There are few stars out, but only one moon. He stares at the moon for a long time, and thinks about his past, and his kids, and where he is, and where he will not be going. He takes another puff on his cigarette, another stare at the moon, then heads on back inside, throwing the butt over his shoulder. The moon is bright, but he does not give it another glance.