Saturday, January 28
Shadow

Tag: Dapitan 2022 Promotional Pieces

A Room of Empty Chairs

A Room of Empty Chairs

Literary
by ABIGAIL M. ADRIATICO Editor's Note: This piece is one of the works in a four-part series in line with the Dapitan 2022 theme Hintayan. All works are written by The Flame‘s Letters staffers. In all the wakes I had been to, there were always a lot of people. The elderly usually took the seats near the casket. The younger cousins would stay near the table where the food was. Mothers would talk with each other, unconsciously easing the room’s somber mood.  Our culture has allowed funeral wakes to serve as something that brings families together. After all, it is the kind of tradition that makes the process of grieving easier to bear. Being supported by loved ones during these grievous times will always be helpful to the bereaved.  However, on the first day of my grandfather’...
Mga larawang abot-tanaw

Mga larawang abot-tanaw

Literary
By DAWN DANIELLE D. SOLANO   Editor’s Note: This piece is one of the works in a four-part series in line with the Dapitan 2022 theme Hintayan. All works are written by The Flame‘s Letters staffers.   Sa Isla, kapayapaan ang nananaig. Mula sa pagsikat ng Araw hanggang sa paglubog nito, iisa ang larawang naipipinta sa mga mata ng mga naninirahan dito—kaligtasan. Kung tutuusin, wala nang mahihiling pa si Ayla kundi ang manatili sa Isla. Lahat ng kaniyang pangangailangan ay narito na, kumpleto at sapat.  Ngunit tuwing dumarating ang Bangka mula sa Kagiliran, lumiliit ang Isla. Umuurong ang dalampasigan; ang abot nito ay umiikli. Lumalayo ang kalangitan at lumalabo ang dakilang Araw. Tinanaw ni Ayla ang paparating na bangka, at tumalon sa tuwa ang puso niya. ...
The Encore

The Encore

Literary
By CZERIZHA KAIZEL S. ADZUARA   Editor’s Note: This piece is one of the works in a four-part series in line with the Dapitan 2022 theme Hintayan. All works are written by the Flame‘s Letters staffers.   Remedios Street sang the chorus of playing children in a humid afternoon. There was a rhythm of Langit Lupa. Children’s clothes were damped in sweat and their feet soiled by the ground. The little souls played heaven and earth. As twilight fell, their mothers came one by one. They nagged about the soiled clothes and held towels to wipe the sweat off from the children’s brows.  Amid the motherly objections was a child who was left behind. Andres watched the children with their mothers with an ache of yearning in his chest. There was a silent encore in th...
Wisps

Wisps

Literary
By FATIMA B. BADURIA   Editor’s Note: This piece is one of the works in a four-part series in line with the Dapitan 2022 theme Hintayan. All works are written by the Flame‘s Letters staffers.   With a snap of my fingers and a flick of my hand, my fingertips emulate the glaring sun, as warm and ablaze.    If I wish, they would spring up in rows, bright yellow daffodils, red tulips pink peruvian lilies, and white daisies; they would shift directions at a glance, the wind and tilt of the raindrops, the sunbeams and tree branches, the clouds and their shade below as I recline on a water oak leaf, at ease in the morning breeze.   Then out of the blue came vicious,  thundering footfalls  trampling on my charms a...