Liyab

Abong Bahaghari

Abong Bahaghari

  Mula sa aspaltong tirintas na pumipiring sa Maynila gumuguhit ang liwanag sa dilim sa hugis nito.   Sabi ng mama, kaya magkakaroon ng kalsada sa langit ay para mapagbuklod ang dalawang dako ng lungsod.   Turo niya, mas tanaw mo ang ganda ng pamayanan sa itaas, malaya sa kalawang…
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Empty Nest

Empty Nest

  I SCREAM in protest as my father pulls me towards the enclosure of feathered beasts. He laughs tenderly at the sight of me creeping around their pen, as if there were no wires to clip their flight. A little later on, I shudder once more at the sight of…
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Lifetimes

Lifetimes

WHEN I asked my friend his age, he revealed it was as young as our independence. He told me that he had seen the sun and three stars when it was first hoisted up among the clouds.  That day signaled freedom for his brothers, but for him, those yellow threads…
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The Last Sail to the Terminal

The Last Sail to the Terminal

THE FERRYMAN laments the day his ship might never emerge again. Hours before, the tin ship, rusted with age, was packed with strangers who exchanged sweat without malice. Paper bills and coins climbed a staircase made of open palms, their scent clinging to the crevices of everyone’s hands. Dressed in…
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Mourning Songs

Mourning Songs

HIS NAME was not Orpheus, but it might as well have been. Every song echoed like a love song as he strummed the beaten-up six-string.  While the sweet melodies were meant for his bride, they flowed into the city and concealed the dangers lurking in the Manila streets. He turned…
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The Beast of Quezon Drive

The Beast of Quezon Drive

HAVE YOU ever felt a brush against your leg while sitting on the campus benches, or heard a faint cry just before leaving St. Raymund’s? If the answer is yes, you may have just encountered the beast of Quezon Drive. Within the trees rests a creature draped in tiger stripes,…
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When the great flood comes

When the great flood comes

MY FATHER could have been an architect — an engineer, even, so he could bump shoulders with bigger beasts. I can already taste our life in the version where he obtained his license. He would drive home in foreign cars that aren’t even available in the country yet. Once his…
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The Recessional

The Recessional

It takes approximately twenty steps to cross the Arch from Lovers Lane. At the fifth, the screaming begins: a collective, deafening exhale of years of held breath. By the tenth step, the dizziness kicks in. The momentum of my peers carries me forward. Everything is going by too fast—the high…
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