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Philippines Graphic Reader
Chicken Adobo
I watch my Mama pour a sachet of Milointo three cups, adding a lot of brown sugar to it—stirring them slowly, as though she could stretch the day out longer than it will last. Her shoulders droop, and a deep sigh escapes her...
The Visitor at Dusk
The night still outshone the day when Ms. Angeles, a public school teacher at Sagisag Elementary School, woke up in her bed. The crow of the roosters and the chorus of the crickets were the only noise. In her cabinet hung her uniform...
While I Still Can
Let me, please
I beg of you
Let me catch the whiff of fresh air
Against my cheeks
The first ray of sunshine
As new day breaks
As it kisses the grass
Green on my barefoot
Before it filters through
The stained glass windows
Bearing memories of a blurry past
Let me step...
CTRL+ALT+ESC
The children of the town had once belonged to the streets. Their laughter rattled off the cracked sidewalks, their games stretched across alleys and fields, and dusk was a sign, not for disconnection, but for one more round of hide-and-seek or patintero, a...
On Womanhood
Being a woman
is thrust upon you.
You walk under stars and suddenly
casually,
make a fist in your pocket and
hold your key—like
a weapon.
It is keen awareness
of fabric length,
and clenched assessment
of skin, padlocks, mirrors, stopping cars,
of home routes, and drink offers.
Being a woman is weighing
the chances of...
Vic Pura
An author is confronted by the protagonist of her 32nd fiction.
She had written a story about the incident, more or less an undisguised one, populated by the same characters with little or no changes in name. I followed suit and just used one...
