Sophia followed the sound of the steady tinkling of a handbell coming from the gate of the kindergarten grounds. She peered through the gate’s wire mesh for a good view of the happy commotion around the sorbetes cart. Outside, the schoolchildren...

Heaven, in my mind,has a gate made of wood;no angels herald my coming,nor clouds collect at my feet. The air dresses itselfin the scent of chocolate, of coffee,drawing me deeper to wherean aged acacia table waits— where Lolo spreadshis roasted beans...

Bad news spread like bad news does: fast, as fast as chat groups and social media could deliver it, which meant immediately. Lauro Jocson, Jr. was dead. He suffered a stroke on the 13th hole of his home golf course...

I was six when my father brought home a chickThe cheap one you see during fiestas in the barrio. I can’t recall what colorwas sprayed upon its ruffled feathers, but I remember how it feltholding it between my shaking palms. Warm. Soft....

at the town’s public cemetery, I lightthree candles to celebrate his life. Their flames are tiny suns that flickeragainst the dusk. His name on the wooden cross is fading. When was my last visit here?I look into the horizon unfurling like...

The virus made everyone cower inside their houses—windows taped shut as if air and light were poisonous and doors locked tightly as if to shut out more than just a robber but rather the entire world. Every day people...

On her windowsillMother keeps a small garden.A patch of many shapes and colors.Old twigs coaxing unborn leaves.Subversive thorns caring for vari-colored blooms.Plants and essences that cureToothaches and loneliness.Here, she wields the power.She drinks deep from her own gospel.

Grace The many tremors comeunannounced, but we knowthey are coming. The old earthgives way and soft papayasare on the ground. Lemongrassfills the air and everywhere there isa steely edge to the way peoplecall our names. The groundboth fact and faceless,save...

“What the—?” Sky’s hand stalled inside the bag, fingers grazing the lining like it might bite.  The leather was a tired brown, the kind that had once been pretty in store lighting and then surrendered to real life—edges blunted, corners...

Red, orange and brownYour lunch, your dinnerYou don’t have a choiceFor it’s your only fare now It’s now on sale in storesBuy now; it’s buy one, take oneRight now, it fits with riceAnd with salt plus soy sauce, too! Eat it...

Mamay, here you are soaking the soft riceAnd wrapping them in the leaves tender, darkenedDarkened by the tiniest flame that you whispered to.The bundles are dreams of shapes on top of each other.Listen, the water is graying and catching...

Armed with a rifle and overflowing with a warrior’s confidence, my classmate's brother marched into the woods, excited about his unforgettable first solo hunt. After all, they say you never forget your first. Deep in the forest, alone and...