The Brick Layer

Poetry by | January 6, 2025

The Bricklayer

 

There will be no family picture–

As I fall apart by myself tonight

That gnawing thought of happy faces on a canvas

Or just a faded print with you seems real as it was

Surreal.

Yes, there will never be a family picture

I have forgotten I was just the spare tire

In family dinners, birthdays, or Christmas

I was just around to fill a space

I have always loved family photos

But I have never owned one

 

May Mundiz- Laquihon is a mother, a teacher, and a budding artist. She thrives for creativity, and peace. She lives in Bislig City, Surigao del Sur.

Illustration : Noy Narciso

06C

Poetry by | December 30, 2024

Usa ka dangaw ang mipataliwa
sa atong kapalaran.
Nagtapad ta niining dyip
nga naglatas sa kadalanan sa V. Rama.

Kulongon ang imong buhok
nga gipaak sa pulang pugong,
samtang ang imong duha ka itom nga ariyos
giduyan-duyan sa huyuhoy.

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A Grandchild with Blue Eyes

Nonfiction by | December 30, 2024

I was around eight when my mom told me she wanted a grandchild with blue eyes. We were just hanging out in the backyard, sitting beside each other on a hammock, when she said, “Gusto ko ng mestizong apo!” She told me she wanted to see them in person, as blue eyes aren’t something you typically encounter in ordinary Philippine settings.

“Mestizo” is a Spanish word that originally described a person of Spanish and indigenous descent. Over time, the meaning evolved to a broader definition: a person of mixed race. In the Philippines, a mestizo is someone who is half-Filipino and half-foreigner, or, in simpler terms, a “tisoy”—someone with evident Caucasian features who is conventionally attractive.

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My Girl

Fiction by | 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.

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The Meet Cute

Fiction by | 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.

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