Ang Paggakos Sa Adlaw

Fiction by | September 29, 2025

Sa paborito nga café sa akong anak nga nahimutang daplin sa dalan, nakit-an nako ang pamilyar nga hulagway gikan sa iyang mga sugilanon. Milingkod ang maong binuhat sa iyang naandang dapit sa may bintana, diin ang silaw sa adlaw nagpasiga sa iyang nawong, sama sa suga nga nagpahiluna sa usa ka talan-awon sa pelikula. Uban sa iyang daan nga itom nga backpack ug paper bag nga puno sa bag-ong mga libro, si Carlos, nga nagsugod pa lang sa iyang panaw sa kolehiyo, nalingaw sa pagbasa sa Riverrun: A Novel ni Danton Remoto.

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The Shark’s Liver

Nonfiction by | September 15, 2025

As early as I can remember, I haven’t been able to see very well. Even when I was sitting in the front row, the words on the board seemed to lose their form. The white chalk’s dust looked like ribbons entangled. I knew something was wrong with my eyes. Under the sun, they shone—rich brown hues resembling dark chocolate—and in their bitterness, I suffered.

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Panit-Pasayan

Poetry by | September 8, 2025

Lamian ka sa hinuboan nga daan nga pasayan. Siya nga mikulo ug mihigda sa imong gi-order na pasta. Apan kaniadto, dili gani nimo ni gunitan. Kuno, sama sila sa mga ipis nga manggawas sa Mintal matag gabii. Pinugos nilang giputol ang ilang hinanok aron motilaw sa bugnaw nga bulan. Takos lamang sa imong dila ang mananap nga dili modawat og salin-salin sa dagat.

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Museum Visit

Fiction by | September 8, 2025

The prospect of going to the museum seemed to be the only interesting thing Carol could think of. She had no schedule or errands to run, and she had been pacing back and forth in the small hotel room like a caged animal. Besides, there was a newly opened museum in the city. People had raved about it on social media. Carol didn’t usually like to join the bandwagon, but she had no idea what else to do for the day, so she gave in.

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The Last Scout

Fiction by | September 1, 2025

Tonton sat on the wooden chair, slowly untying his shoelaces, then unbuttoned his white polo uniform. It still smelled like the sun-dried flowers from the fabric conditioner his mother had used. Despite doing physical activities all day, from practicing their marching routine to playing with his classmates, his uniform was still as white as a sampaguita with no stains to be seen. He got a perfect score on his science test, so he eagerly took his test paper out of his Spiderman bag, excited to share the good news with his mother.

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The Parasites Have Penises

Nonfiction by | August 25, 2025

It started the day I came to life. The man who impregnated my mother denied the blood that runs in my veins. “It’s not mine,” he said, parading his cowardice. He painted my mother as a Jezebel, a woman his mother would spit on, and hurled vicious insults our way.

It was my mother’s mother who saved us. “No honey of mine will remain unknown,” she declared. And so she named me Rich Knowledge, a name that would invite mockery and confusion, which people assumed belonged to a boy.

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