Literary

Fire Away
20
Jan
By Editor in Chief
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Fire Away

MY FONDEST memory of fire was in a dream, when I saw it roaring in glee as it painted the sky using gunpowder as its ink. Drawing circles, drawing flowers, drawing mushrooms, spirals and the like, it splashed colors across its midnight black canvas. It struck awe and put twinkle…
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Tiger Regalia
13
Jan
By Editor in Chief
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Tiger Regalia

JANUARY SIGNALS the return of the Thomasian community to the Royal and Pontifical University of Santo Tomas. With the privilege of belonging and being surrounded by astute and pious saints, may the people display regality that manifests through their acts of genuine kindness toward a world filled with grief. With…
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Kuwitis sa Lansangan
06
Jan
By The Flame Literary
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Kuwitis sa Lansangan

SUPER LOLO. White Bomb. Good bye Earth. Atomic Big Triangulo. Piccolo. Judas Belt. Watusi. Iilan ang mga ito sa mga ipinagbabawal na paputok—ipinagbabawal upang maiwasan ang walang katuturang pagdanak ng dugo. Glock 19, Glock 22—hindi na kinakailangan ng posporo o lighter, ikinakasa na lamang at kinakalabit para paputukin. Tatlong lalaki,…
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Sanguine Tempest
30
Dec
By Editor in Chief
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Sanguine Tempest

SOME PEOPLE love the rain for various reasons. Some love it when the rain pours and when it interacts with their pores and how it envelops themselves in the cold yet kind touch of droplets stretching into the infinite horizon. Some love the sound of the rain and how it…
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Monday Morning
23
Dec
By Editor in Chief
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Monday Morning

ROUSED BY a tremor accompanied by a deafening ringing, right below where her head lay rest which disrupted her slumber like raindrops causing ripples on a steady lake, she awakened to the droning of a fan. Almost mechanically if not for its lack of precision, her hand reached underneath her…
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Plastic Horse
16
Dec
By Editor in Chief
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Plastic Horse

“WHAT DO you want to do when you grow up?” His hands shook ever so slightly, but he kept a firm hold on his son as he helped the boy climb the biggest plastic horse in the carousel. The ride has slowly begun, moving in soft circles that made his…
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Point: Of Breaking and Of the Pen
09
Dec
By Editor in Chief
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Point: Of Breaking and Of the Pen

THE FINGERS of the five-year-old me circled around the straps of my backpack so tightly that my knuckles had visibly gone white. My mother spoke gently but firmly. She said education is essential. Going to school would make me a better person; there I would learn, and when I asked…
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