Fiction

Author’s Introduction: Pateros River FestivalBalut or boiled duck eggs are a delicacy that many Filipinos love and are sold warm from the lined straw baskets of ambulant vendors. The duck eggs come from the city of Pateros located southeast of Manila where most...

The Rising Sun bus left Baguio City quickly with a thick dust on its way while the morning mist hovered around the tall buildings and the wooden houses under the tall pine trees. We entered the killer road of the Halsema Highway going...

When Santiago saw her in the mirror, comb in hand, he knew it was time for him. It was time to leave the hut. For it was the time of the crescent moon and if there were people he knew in the corner...

I shy away from the crowd and try to make a run for it. Nobody’s going to bar me from going where I want to go, especially at this time of the century.

It was Christmas break. Susie and I had all the time to do whatever we wanted to do. The one thing we had long wished for, since her uncle told us the man’s story, was to see the bearded exile who lived in the house across our homes. The front of the exile’s house faced our front door. Its back side faced Susie’s huge window in their house along the bay.

This is a story about a story. It was told to me in a whisper by a friend who was once part of the story. He is older now, and his face is lined with all sorts of discoveries and disappointments. His hair has turned grey and now, he spends most of his time shaking his head while reading a book or mumbling to himself or both. This story he cannot remember anymore or even that, once, he was part of it himself.