Fiction by Dhan Durango | August 25, 2025
Your slumped shoulders silhouetted your spindly frame as you sludged through the hallway on a Monday morning, last week’s Service Awards fermented in your thoughts like souring milk.
Manang, why weren’t you included there?
Fiction by Rica Bianca Caangay | July 30, 2025
Nilakaw si Mama. Mangumpra daw sya para sa among tindahan. Hurot na ang tsitsaron nga orange. Hurot na pud ang sardinas. Naa pay noodles pero gamay na lang pud.
Gisirad-an sa ni mama ang tindahan. Dili pa daw ko pwede magbantay. Dili pa ko kabalo muihap og kambyo. Katong nipalit og isa ka sigarilyo si Angkol Mario kay gikambyohan nako syag singko. Piso ra diay dapat to. Nalipat ko.
Ana si mama kay mubalik dayon siya. Sa duol ra daw sya mangumpra. Isa lang daw ka sakayan. Magpakyaw ra pud daw sya og tricycle pauli kay basin magbaguod daw sya sa iyang bitbit. Maghulat ra daw ko niya.
Fiction by Ferdinand Balino | March 17, 2025
“Isa…dalawa…tatlo. Tatlong tilapya na ang nabingwit ni Liloy sa ilog. Yohooo, may makakain na kami!” bulalas niya.
Samantala, wala pang nahuhuli si Danoy, ang kaibigan ni Liloy. Tahimik lamang siya. Nakasandal siya sa isang malaking bato. Tinitingnan niya ang isang tilapya sa ilog. Lalapit-lapit ito sa pain ng kaniyang pamingwit na kawayan.
“Pag nakalimang isda na ako, baka mauna na ako ‘yo, Noy, ha. Baka nagugutom na sila sa bahay,” sabi ni Liloy.
Tumango lamang si Danoy. Nakaramdam siya ng inggit. Sa isip niya, “Buti pa sina Liloy, may makakain na, kami, wala pa.”
Ilang sandali pa, gumalaw-galaw ang pamingwit niya.
“Salamat, salamat, may makakain na kami!” sigaw niya.
Continue reading Ang Pamimingwit nina Liloy at Danoy
Fiction by Paolo Andreo M. Sandalo | March 10, 2025
Magduha na ka semana ang milabay sukad mikuyanap ang hungihong nga aduna’y sigbin sa Purok Gumamela.
Nagsugod ang tanan kadtong mitug-an si Nong Piktoy sa iyang mga kainom og tuba. Nakita niya ang mahikanhong mananap duol sa kamotehan usa ka gabii niana nga mipauli siya sa ilang balay. Matod pa niya, nagtuwad-tuwad kini atubangan sa punoan sa saging ug nasug-an gamay sa iyang espat. Kalit kuno kining midagan palayo.
Samtang miangkon ang tiguwang nga hubog siya ug nahibilin iyang antepara atol niining panghitaboa, sigurado kuno siya nga sigbin iyang nakita niadtong gabhiona.
Lahi sab ang gisaysay ni Berta Bungol. Nadunggan kuno niya ang sigbin nga nagbahis-bahis dapit sa ilahang kamotehan mag-alas diyes na sa gabii. Nahitabo kuno kini kadtong gibati siya og sakit sa tiyan og miadto sa kasilyas sa gawas sa ilang panimalay aron maalibyohan ang iyang kahimtang. Wala na niya nakita ang mananap kay asta kunong ngitngita sa palibot.
Continue reading Ang Misteryo sa Sigbin
Fiction by Emeterio Sumagang | February 24, 2025
Gikan sa likoanan ubos sa linaw sa busay, nagbaklay si Fausto tungas sa Sitio Tungason. Ang mga habalhabal kutob ra sa linaw. Ang tubig sa linaw hinulog gikan sa gamayng busay busa gitawag kinig linaw sa busay ug ang baryo nga nahimutangan sa busay gitawag og Busay. Ang Sitio Tungason maoy kinahilitan nga sitio sa Lungsod sa Busay. Medyo layo ang linaw gikan sa sentro ug walay maayong dalan nga agianan busa dili kaayo daghan ang mangaligo dinhi gawas sa panahon sa ting-init nga mao say tingsera sa klase.
Ang kamisadentro ni Fausto kapug-an na sa singot sa pagbaktas ubos sa nagpamahit nga kainit sa haponong adlaw. Talagsa ra ang kasilongan ning lugara kay ang kanhi lasang gipulihan na man sa kogon ug ubang sagbot nga maoy naglawod sa umaw nga kayutaan. Mao nga sa pag-abot ni Fausto sa nag-inusarang kahoy daplin sa dalan mipahulay siyag kadyot ubos sa landong niini. Ang maong kahoy ilhanan nga tungatunga na siya sa iyang baktason. Nakita niya ang gamayng kinidlat sa kahayag nga gisumbalik sa buak nga botelya didto sa may unahan sa kahoy. Ang tipak nga bildo gikan sa botelya sa soft drink nga gilabay sa nahiagi dinhi. Milihay si Fausto sa nahimutangan sa bildo aron dili matunok. Iya lang kining gilabyan inay puniton ug ihikling aron dili matumban sa nag-agian sa dalan. Wala mabalaka si Fausto nga iya kining matumban kay diha ra man kini sa may daplin ug sinati na niya ang nahimutangan niini. Sama sa likod sa iyang asawa sinati ni Fausto ang tabas, han-ay ug hulma sa dalan paingon sa ilang dapit. Baga na ang kubal sa iyang lapalapa sa pagbaktas ning nagbawod-bawod nga dalan. Dinhing bukira siya nagdako ug naminyo. Gani mabdos man ang iyang asawa sa ikatulo nilang anak.
Wala na mosaka si Fausto sa pag-abot sa balay. Iyang gisab-it ang iyang dala sa haligi sa habog nga payag.
“Naay isdang pirit. Pagtula unya. Modiritso kos tunaan aron mahipos ang kabaw.” Ni Fausto pa ngadto sa iyang asawa.
“Unya nakapalit kag sakos harina?” Pakisayod sa asawa nga nanilhig sa nataran. Himoon og lampin ang sako sa harina. Idugang sa pipila ka karaang lampin nga mao pay gigamit sa unang anak sa magtiayon.
“Tulo ra kabuok kay nagpalit kog batereya para sa plaslayt. Nagpalit sad kog pan. Asa man ang mga bata?”
Continue reading Ang Buak nga Botelya sa Dalan
Fiction by Victory Valenciano | January 13, 2025
Kali [Flash Fiction]
I’ve known Kali since sixth grade. Although her real name wasn’t Kali, people called her that because it was short for “Kaliwete,” which means lefty in English. She was known for her left-handedness, and it was a defining trait that everyone noticed.
We bonded over our love for badminton. Every afternoon, after our classes at the local elementary school, we’d rush to the barangay court with our rackets. Kali’s left hand was swift and precise, making her a formidable opponent.
Kali’s family had just moved into a big, old house that everyone in the neighborhood said was haunted. A lush canopy of ancient trees enveloped it, their gnarled branches casting long, dancing shadows that seemed to beckon from the twilight. One day, as young and curious kids, we explored the second floor of her family’s newly bought house.
Inside, the house was a labyrinth of dimly lit corridors and spacious rooms. The worn wooden floorboards creaked underfoot, their rich, warm tones contrasting with the cool, shadowy interiors. The air was thick with the scent of old wood and forgotten memories. The room on the second floor was unlike any other. Its high, beamed ceiling soared upwards. Sunlight filtered through the antique window panes, casting intricate patterns of light and shadow on the polished wooden floor.
In the center of the room stood a giant, ornate mirror. Its frame was carved with intricate flourishes of gilded wood, resembling a delicate filigree of vines and leaves. The mirror was antique, its glass slightly warped and uneven, casting distorted reflections. The ornate frame, intricate carvings, and gilded details added to the room’s air of mystery. I pointed to the mirror in front of us. My voice dropped to a whisper as I leaned closer to Kali.
“Huy, ana baya sa mga movies na haunted ng mga ing ana,” She just laughed, a light, carefree sound that echoed eerily in the dim room. She stepped closer to the mirror, her eyes fixed on her reflection.
“Awa akong nawng,” she said, her face contorting into a playful grimace as the old glass warped her features.
I watched her, feeling a strange unease settle over me. “Wait lang,” I replied, my voice sounding distant even to my ears. “Lipong man”. The room seemed to tilt, and my vision blurred.
When I opened my eyes, the world had changed. The room looked the same, but everything was bathed in a strange, silvery hue. The air felt thick and cold, and a faint hum filled my ears. I turned to Kali, her face pale and eyes wide with fear. “We’re trapped.”
I grabbed her hand, the only solid thing in this surreal nightmare. “We have to get out of here,” I said, my voice firm despite the panic rising in my chest. We started pounding on the glass, our fists hitting the cold surface with a dull thud. After what felt like an eternity, a crack appeared, spider webbing across the glass. With one final punch, the mirror shattered, and we tumbled out, gasping for breath. The room around us was back to normal. Kali and I exchanged looks of both shock and fear. Pale as ghosts, our eyes widened while we pinched ourselves to make sure that we really got out of there.
Today was Saturday. “Unsa man, badminton ta?” she suggested.
We walked to the court and talked about the mirror incident yesterday. “Maynalang nakahawa ta didto, noh?” she said. I ignored the slight smile she gave. “Gani, do you remember how cold it was inside the mirror?”
Kali nodded in reply. “Yes, it felt like the air was being sucked out of the room. And the way our reflections moved… it was like they had a mind of their own.”
We then proceeded to play badminton for the next hour or two. The familiar rhythm of the game usually brought me comfort, but today, something felt off. Kali was using her right hand to hit the shuttlecock. I watched her movements, smooth and precise. When did she get so good at using her right hand?
I brushed the thought away and continued playing, trying to focus on the game. But the more I watched her, the more uneasy I felt. Her right-handed swings were powerful and accurate, almost too perfect.
She won!
She always had a competitive streak, but her victory felt different today, almost possessed. I rushed to the monoblocks and sat on it, my breath coming in short gasps. “O, gihangak na pud ka,” Kali said, her voice light and teasing. With her right hand, she handed me a bottle of water. I took it, my hands trembling slightly. Despite the comforting tone, I decided I couldn’t take it anymore. The questions that had been swirling in my mind demanded answers.
“Kali, kailan ka pa natuto na gamitin ang right hand mo?” My voice trembled a bit, betraying my inner confusion and fear.
“What do you mean?” She looked at me, and the corners of her lips turned to a smirk. “I’ve always been right-handed.”
Victory Valenciano is a 17-year-old HUMSS Learner from Ateneo de Davao Senior High School. She spends countless hours lost in the world of music, arts, and literature.
Illustration by Noy Narciso
Fiction by Iona Mendoza | December 16, 2024
You said goodbye to Attorney Ramos when you clocked out. The solid pine doors of the firm were expensive, heavy under slim hands. But you are healthy. You take good care of your body. You pushed them open easily and walked over to your Jeep, a pretty white thing.
You drove to that gym in Sta. Ana, the one you don’t like. You always complain that it’s too crowded by the time you get off work. Still, you go inside, strip off your blouse, and swap the skirt for a pair of tight leggings. You grew up nicely, didn’t you? Wide hips, full lips, long legs. I could stare at you every day. I do.
Fiction by Jenny Manongas | November 25, 2024
It was already too early in the morning by the time Henry finally hailed an empty jeepney to lead him straight home.
“South Villa, kuya?” he asked with the kind of urgency only possessed by someone who had 15 missed calls from their mom. The jeepney driver, a tired old man, squinted at him over his eyeglasses and mouthed a confused “Ha?” back at him. Henry repeated himself, much louder this time, and the old man nodded sharply. He rushed to the back of the jeep and sat near the exit as the vehicle started moving again, turning the corner of the demolished mall now barricaded in a blue reminiscent of its logo.