
Whenever someone felt unwell in the stomach, the advice was always the same: Uminom ka ng Coke—bottled, ha. Not canned, not diet. It had to be cold. It had to hiss. The fizz would stir something. The burp would come. And slowly, the nausea would lift. They had to drink it in one go, not nurse it like tea. No ice. No straw. Straight from the bottle. Even now, when anyone in the house feels that familiar queasiness, they reach for the same dark bottle and wait for the relief that begins with a single satisfying and long burp. /Vincent Pozon
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