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Butterfly

Do not catchA butterfly With your hands,Especially not A white oneEven with itsEver so slightStreaks of black. You might Damage itsDelicate wingsAnd it can Never fly again.Catch it, rather,With...

The Baby

Dr. Marta was seated on a stool in the Recovery Room writing her notes on a patient just transferred from the Delivery Room. Suddenly,...

Brave New World

It’s 20 minutes after 8 in the eveningAnd everyone is readying themselvesFor another wretched night of fragile safety.Air raid sirens bellow throughout Kiev and...

Feed Me

Amanda's heart raced as she navigated through the sea of well-dressed attendees at the charity event. The grandeur of the venue was overshadowed by...

The Scent of Coconuts

JANUARY 1, 1924, shortly after the stroke of midnight, was when Luzviminda Cruces was born into this earth in barrio Bunot in a town named Daraga, Albay. She was the last of 10 children. Because of some illnesses during pregnancy, her mother thought...

The Centurion

At six, Enzo Domingo bore witness to a miracle. That was the summer that Kuya Elison got sick. Enzo woke one night to find his brother laying next to him, covered in sweat and skin burning with fever. Eli squirmed in his sleep,...

The Red Banca on Our Island

I No one can forget that red banca. If anyone were to ask how it looked, no one on our island would be mistaken in describing such a banca. Its color resembled the fresh blood of a butchered pig, and it was quite large,...

Simulacrum

Jesus fuck!” I blurted out. I pray my devout Catholic of a Mom and Dad didn’t hear that one but—Christ on a stick—this stupid fucking laptop. Been trying to get it to open again for hours now. One moment three glitched pixels were...

The Mysteries beside the Brook, under the Tree

In which the inevitable led me to a new friend. I died alone, and I don’t regret it. Not even once. Death is a strange feeling to have: I expected it to at least haunt me or leave me wondering if I have unfinished...

Chopin’s Valse de L’Adieu

After a year of hesitant whispers, Their mutual nodTo terminate the engagement. Clouds of unknowing Drift over Paris, The syllogism of parting Known only to Maria WodzińskaAnd him.  Perhaps, it was her dread Of his unrelenting winter fever—That famished lout gnawing At his lungs, bound to consume him Fourteen years hence; Or the...

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