Monday, March 27
Shadow

Literary

Account of the Witness

Account of the Witness

Literary
by VON ZYRON P. ALIMORONG I HAVE sat at many tables and walked many roads, accompanying two lovers and seen them drown in love. I have also seen many of these lovers grow apart, often turning into bad memories or to strangers—and me, their sole witness. The lucky ones would remain acquainted. The usual ones, however, would act like ghosts toward one another. Their reasons vary for becoming like so. But in most of them, the other half would suddenly give up swimming in a sea as vast and dangerous as love. It takes a certain courage to remain in that sea. So for some, the shore seems to be a better place to remain in. And in returning to safer shores, they would leave their partner floating all alone. Their partner, who once knew how to swim and where to go, would be lost and confused...
Vanity Mirror

Vanity Mirror

Literary, Liyab
by CZERIZHA KAIZEL S. ADZUARA WHEN THE night grows quiet and the sound is left for the cicadas, Helen silently sits before the vanity mirror. With its carved curlicues, the wooden frame devours her whole. It was the same mirror that devoured the features of Helen’s mother; and their female ancestors, who did the same rituals and asked the same thing from the mirror. She gazes at her face by the candlelight. The darkness of the night vignettes her features. Helen begins her ritual. First comes the cleansing. She wipes the grime and history of pain off her flesh. Then she gently peels the rough patches on her skin and lips. Helen flinches, but the pain is a part of the ritual. It is built in.  She swallows the trickle of blood on her lips. Then, the toning comes seco...
Pied Piper

Pied Piper

Literary, Liyab
by MARIA ALTHEA V. JAVIER From the realm where I exist You pulled me into a world devoid of reality Once the clock strikes jarringly Fireflies master the art of allure Flowers embellish the vines with their glory Iridescence overtakes the paths I cross To which crickets of the dead of night Compete with a newfound tune   I wasn't afraid, I only listened to the sound of you I only marveled at the way you made me move Fleeing from the little amount of sense I have left Rushing towards your hymn that I know is for me You look back at me with your stone-cold eyes With it is a sudden moment of epiphany All that’s left of me, now devoid of anything worthy    The clock strikes jarringly You emerge from the claws of night Yo...
Solitary Rain

Solitary Rain

Literary, Liyab
by FRANCIS MIGUELL S. STA ROSA OR SO he recalls, there was almost zero visibility when he was driving along MacArthur Highway. The wiper was already on its highest setting, but quite absurdly, Bocaue is still passable.  He just went on a date with someone. They ate at a dim sum place near the Chinese Village. She used to eat there with her family when she was young. Afterward, he bought her coffee—no dairy. She’s allergic to milk, and he very well took note of all these things.  It was indeed a joyful day, but a day is never long enough. He drove her home, hugged her farewell and let out a sad smile. “Bye, Pa,” she whispered. As he waved goodbye, her mother came out of the door, and they locked eyes for what seemed like an eternal glimpse. He drove away with haste, and the ...
Shattered Glass

Shattered Glass

Literary
by ABIGAIL M. ADRIATICO Editor’s Note: This piece is one of the works in a nine-part series in line with the Dapitan 2023 theme Panopticon. All works are written by The Flame‘s Literary staffers. MONICA TIGHTLY held an unsealed letter as she sat at the table with her cousins. Their hushed whispers and judgemental glances directed at her went unnoticed as she drank another glass of water to steady her racing heart. At that moment, she had something more important to worry about—the letter about her revoked scholarship in her hands. Monica did not have to scan the room to find where her mother was. She stood among her siblings and cousins. Even from afar she knew they were talking about her. They always did.  Her mother never congratulated her for her achievements. Yet, ar...
Paruparo

Paruparo

Literary
by MARIA ALTHEA V. JAVIER Editor’s Note: This piece is one of the works in a nine-part series in line with the Dapitan 2023 theme Panopticon. All works are written by The Flame‘s Literary staffers. MAY BAGO na naman silang bidyo. Matagal na akong aliw sa panonood ng mga artistang wala na sa karera kaya marahang lumilipat sa pang-uuto ng mga katulad ko. Oo, kasama ako. Sa mga oras na nakikita kong pilit nilang ibinabagay ang mamahaling bag nila sa pucho-puchong rubber shoes, parang gusto kong masuka.  Sabagay, ano nga namang ambag ng opinyon ko, e kahit yata basura ang ipasuot mo sa mga ‘to, gagawin pa ring balita ng lahat ng news channels sa balat ng lupa. “This is the very first bag that I bought for myself when I was asking my mom if I should buy this, first paycheck k...
Harvest the Grapes of Berlin

Harvest the Grapes of Berlin

Literary
by FRANZ ZOE STOELZL T. BAROÑA Editor’s Note: This piece is one of the works in a nine-part series in line with the Dapitan 2023 theme Panopticon. All works are written by The Flame‘s Literary staffers. RATS SCUFFLED from the crevices that graced the surface of the earth, the ground trembled beneath the grinding steel tracks of Soviet tanks, and bullets tattered in all four cardinal directions—wheezing past the German's crippled ears. Aircrafts and artillery continued to govern what was once the proud skies and soil of Berlin. The Germans were denied of their own will—so much that Fritz had to carry his son Finn into an abandoned house, begging him to silence his voice from the cries he could not restrain for God's sake. When Finn had settled, he was lost in his thoughts. H...
Yggdrasil

Yggdrasil

Literary
by CZERIZHA KAIZEL S. ADZUARA Editor’s Note: This piece is one of the works in a nine-part series in line with the Dapitan 2023 theme Panopticon. All works are written by The Flame's Literary staffers. In Norse mythology, a colossal tree binds the nine realms. Its branches are bridges to the rest of the cosmos. Yggdrasil is the center of the Norse universe. During a family dinner, I watched my younger sister flinch at an unsolicited remark from a relative. I knew she would cry alone later by the sudden shrug of her shoulders. She was trying to regain her composure, and I was there observing. The clash of utensils against the porcelain plates clouded her distress. A non-expressive household sows vigilant eyes and ears. It bears hushed young lips. You have to be cautious to r...
The sorter of letters

The sorter of letters

Literary, Liyab
by FRANZ ZOE STOELZL T. BAROÑA ANDENG SORTED countless mails since the first ascent of dawn. It was only fair for her to evoke a sense of weariness. At 7 in the evening, she departed from the Post Office and wandered along the entangled paths of Liwasang Bonifacio. Lampposts and lanterns contrasted the dullness of the plaza and accentuated the street vendors, beggars, and commuters who took refuge under the shades of ancient Narra trees. Unknowingly, Andeng stumbled upon an elderly lady sleeping beside a pedestal. A cup underneath her caught the attention of the young sorter of letters, prompting Andeng to open her purse and kneel down. "Nay, ito ho," Andeng muttered.  At first, she hesitated to place coins and pandesal into the cup. They may not be enough.  Suddenly,...
Nocebo: No cure but belief and madness

Nocebo: No cure but belief and madness

Literary
by VON ZYRON P. ALIMORONG  WHEN ONE is on the brink of being ruined, the most instinctive thing to do is to cling to some sort of belief—going so far as to give all her faith to something she does not usually believe in. But faith can only do so much.  In Lorcan Finnegan’s 2022 psychological thriller Nocebo, fashion designer Christine (Eva Green) suffers from an unknown illness with no known cure.  Initially, she experiences having vivid hallucinations. Eventually, other symptoms start manifesting: tremors, difficulty in breathing, body pains, and memory lapses—ultimately affecting her work and her family. Enter Chai Fonacier’s character, Diana, who arrives at Christine’s home one day, much to the homeowner’s surprise. Diana claims she was hired as their maid but Christi...