Category: Fiction

Taong Bato

Fiction by | March 15, 2009

Alas nuebe na nang gabi nun. Bigla akong hinila ng magaling kong kaklase dun sa may rebulto na tila sinasamba ng lahat na mga estudyante. Nagtipon-tipon sila, tayo. Imbes na iparada ang mga parol para sa selebrasyon ng kapaskuhan, hayun ang lahat, may dala-dalang plakard. May itim na may puting tinta, at puti na may tintang itim at pula. May nagsasalita sa gitna. Daan-daang mag-aaral ang nandun pero walang mikropono. Tahimik ang lahat. Nakikinig. Nakikiisa. Buo ang atensyong ibinibigay sa sinumang nagsasalita.

Continue reading Taong Bato

Encounters

Events, Fiction by | March 4, 2009

Beyond the frames of the glass windows of Davao Medical Center was the cold hard rain. I glanced at the wall clock: 3:05. Time for endorsement call; but I could not free myself from lingering thoughts and the sound of a familiar name. The ceiling fan was not working again. Sweat trickled down my forehead down to my nose and lips; some droplets on my neck glided towards my nape. I felt sweat from my chin trickle down to my throat onto the sides of my breasts and, after finding the main freeway, explore my navel: I had already bathed.

The sharp blend of odors in the Nurses’ station was shaking my consciousness: the scent of oranges, a nearby diabetic’s necrotic foot, an open bottle of rubbing alcohol, the smell of fresh blood expelled from a womb contracting from the neighboring Delivery Room, and spilled urine on the floor from a patient’s urobag. It was exhausting.

Or, perhaps, it was creating a different kind of delusion.

The name?

What’s the name again? The diagnosis?

“Divinagracia, Maria Ana.”

Continue reading Encounters

Under Our Tree

Fiction by | February 22, 2009

Like all best friends, we told each other everything. From our fears, to our dreams, hell, we even told each other who we liked and all that jazz. No, it wasn’t gay, as some of you might think.

It was perfect. Absolutely, truly, perfect. I was happy and I’d like to think he was too. There were times – a lot of them – when I thought that I could live until I was 150 just as long as he was by my side.

And it was already too late when I realized that I had fallen in love with him.

And fall hard I did.

Pretty soon, I had to stop telling him everything. He couldn’t know. We were friends. Very close ones. And I had broken the golden rule:

Never fall in love with your best friend.

Continue reading Under Our Tree

A Modern Asian Fairy Tale

Fiction by | February 8, 2009

There was this teenaged princess from Southeast Asia who, tired of all the political maneuverings and killings and dissent and poverty unsolved by parliament, sneaked out of the country incognito by wearing a wig and a tailored suit, her crown in a hatbox as hand-carried luggage. Landed in a small Philippine airport, found a small house to stay in the middle of a coconut plantation, then walked to town to pawn her crown.

The rural atmosphere suited her needs, also it was just like home—the land, the trees, the air, the trade. Helped a farmer by burning coconut shells for charcoal, sold these to the barbecue people out in the stands at the town streets, and saved up her money so she could get back her crown.

Continue reading A Modern Asian Fairy Tale

In Thy Glory

Fiction by | February 1, 2009

gloryI start my day with Subhanallah and feel the last bead of my pasbih with Allahuakbar. They agreed to forego the dialaga. The wedding is set a month from today. Baba said the mahr is more than generous enough.

You could give your friends, apart from your cousins and other family of course, their adat. No worries about that, Sittie Mouhminah. How much would they want? Give me your guest list too. We are drafting the probable guests. Your Mama has started on some relatives from her side of the family. Compose yourself, atakolay. This one is way better than him. Bangsa, atakolay. Bangsa.

Continue reading In Thy Glory

Mates

Fiction by | January 11, 2009

(An excerpt)

matesThey knew each other. From the moment they first laid eyes, he recognized her, and she him. Nothing would separate them; not even the war that had caused so much misery, which brought their once magnificent civilization to its tragic downfall. Nothing would interfere with their bliss. They were soul mates.

Together with fellow human survivors in the escape fleet, they fled the havoc wrought by their nemesis, the Banac’ans. Their home planet had been pierced through its very core, causing its horrendous destruction. With it, the civilizations, the lives they once knew, the whole planet itself, vanished from the face of the galaxy.

Continue reading Mates

Sigaboy

Fiction by | January 4, 2009

The dog was leisurely running ahead of him, but it suddenly stopped, sniffing the ground nervously. Alerted by the dog, the young Manobo laid down a bound wild rooster and gripped his spear tightly. He looked around him, quickly scanning the trees for any movement. As the dog did not bark, he relaxed a bit. He inspected the ground, and made out several human footprints. They belonged to strangers, he thought, or his dog wouldn’t have acted nervously. He put his ear to the damp ground, then he raised his head, his ears perking. He inspected the ground again. Mud had caked on the leaves of grass that had been trodden repeatedly. The intruders had passed by several hours ago, he concluded. No danger there. But what did they want, so near his house? He looked up. Towering trees filtered the rays of the late afternoon sun. He had time to investigate. He picked up the fowl.

“Toyang!” he called, and his dog responded, sniffing the ground as it led the way. The young Manobo soon realized they were heading towards the gulch. The spring! His heart began to beat rapidly. Amya! He began to run, his dog trailing him. At the ravine floor his fears were confirmed. A spear was stuck right beside the little pool that collected the water from the spring that flowed beside the root of a tree. Footprints! Signs of struggle! He pulled the lance and inspected it. Mandaya warriors! They had taken Amya. No! He looked around in the disturbed brush and found a bamboo tube for fetching water. No! He climbed up the ravine quickly and ran.

Continue reading Sigaboy

The Sound of Rust (an excerpt)

Fiction by | November 30, 2008

I was staring at the Christmas lights outside Kenny’s when Rust came. I, Kristine, and Paulo were already there finishing up a Junior Lapad. We decided to wait for Rust before bringing out the longneck.

“He’s here!” shouted Kristine, obviously tipsy.

Paulo then stood up and went to the counter to get the longneck.

“Hi, Sigil!” Kristine greeted Rust when he got inside the carinderia. She leaned her chair back to look at Rust. I was thinking that she might fall and break something. Luckily, Rust was there to grab on to the back of the chair, preventing a mishap. What the hell was she thinking anyway?

Continue reading The Sound of Rust (an excerpt)