As the first episode of the Philippines Graphic Literary Workshop (PGLW) slowly came to its conclusion on February 28, we knew that we had one more thing that we can offer our bright young fellows: a starting platform for their creative endeavors. Here, we present one of their final outputs from the workshop. We also asked them to provide an artwork that they think best represents their stories. Read on.
He could say, with absolute certainty, that by the shoreline was a vintage Lewis Vitonne 1931 Limited Edition Divine Gala Pump®. Even from a distance, its iconic bell-shaped heel could not be mistaken for any other. It jutted out and pointed an accusing finger at the sky as though to curse some imaginary footwear god for its current predicament in the sand: half-buried, twinless, and wave-worn, with only crabs and other tiny shoreland creatures for company. The golden suede that once graced the shoe’s figure was turning scaly from all the salt and wind this godforsaken beach could give, and half of the material seemed to have already fallen victim to a hungry dog or two. Even then, it seemed aglow under the very sun that tormented it. It seemed aglow to him, at least.
He had just begun to people-watch out of boredom—his officemates had all gathered for beach volleyball in the sand—when he caught sight of the poor thing being tossed around by retreating ocean waters. Four hours and a handful of beachgoers have passed by since then. None paid the heel any particular mind. None thought the heel any different from, say, the silver junk food wrappers draped around the shore’s big rocks or the rice-pimpled banana leaves surfing about in seafoam. But he thought otherwise; his older sister’s boyfriend had a cousin, who had a cousin, who had a sister-in-law, who had a classmate, who had a cobbler friend. A few calls here and there would perhaps do the trick. The vintage Lewis Vitonne 1931 Limited Edition Divine Gala Pump® would look as good as new in no time, and then comes all the money, god, the money.
Hopefully its other half was just around somewhere. All the earnings from his ukay-ukay reselling side hustle would pale in comparison to this one big sale. He can see it now: his debts paid, his phone screen replaced, his rooftop fixed. He could even perhaps buy himself a whole lechon manok this time. Bet more on next week’s Swertres. Pay the first installment of that TV he’d been eyeing for months. All he had to do was stand up and dig his naked toes in moist and sticky and warm and gritty sand, perhaps even impale his calluses on a sharp rock or two. His feet tense. He maps out the quickest path from his hut to the shoreline and back again. He—
A dog takes one good sniff of the vintage Lewis Vitonne 1931 Limited Edition Divine Gala Pump®, clamps it in between its teeth, and bolts.
He springs to his feet and takes off.
Czarina Julia Selgas is the single mother of three holy entities: her cat Emma Pepper Stone, her growing hoard of dice, and her 3D-printed dragon Baku. She is also a developing fossil at the University of the Philippines Mindanao, much to the chagrin of her ancestors. She loves cats. She hates billionaires.
