He carried the box of freshly collected tits into the house for breakfast. His sister, Elena, fast asleep on the living room couch, sported her crisp red and blue elementary school uniform. Scuffed black leather shoes dangled off the couch. Last night, as wind blew heard against the windows, Elena had crawled into her kuya's bed, afraid of the noise. Flesh upon the hard wooden doors, flesh upon the glass of their windows, or else flesh dropped useless to the ground, all the wet sounds of September rain.
Don't worry, her kuya said. "Bukas, masarap ang almusal natin." Elena snug beside him, Kato drew his curtains shut, lit the side lamp atop a small bedside drawer, and made sure the magazines under his bed were out of sight.
Kato was right. The following morning, he collected the box from their small backyard, under the rusty pipe that drained their roof. He looked through the black and brown flesh. Although bruised and dusty, when he held one, he felt the springy flesh was cool and a little moist. The pale brown one, he squeezed gently to bring some milk to its dark nipple. Elena would want the smaller ones shaped like papayas, with less fat and thick skin. She liked to save the nipples for last. But there, near the bottom and dwarfed by a large flat boob whose wide black teat stared, he saw pale white flesh tinged rose with a shy nipple blooming sweet carnation. They didn't get as much white meat down in the city. He plucked the breast from his brown box. It fit in his hand. He could not hide it in the pocket of his loose shorts, so he tucked it in the garter of his briefs.
After breakfast and after Elena boarded her school bus, he took a bath, dressed, and slipped out while his mother washed the dishes. Two streets down, past bright green cock traps that lined the street, past Nanay Lena's sari-sari store, and past his uncle's little billiards hall, he found Ditta tending a make shift metal grill, a fan her hand. The bright pink shirt tight across her own mismatched tits, the left side at least three inches larger. Kato had slipped the white breast into a plastic bag. Now, he held it out to Ditta, smirking.
"Anong luto gusto mo?" She said, scowling, her voice edged with annoyance.
"Para sa'yo yan."
Ditta wore too much make-up but, today, the white powder she spread over her craggy face cracked as she smiled.
"Oh may gad! Der perpekt!" Weighing it in her hand, Ditta held the white breast against her right boob. "Pero hindi ko kakulay!"