The Philippines Graphic Reader

The first and only magazine on Philippine literature in English

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STUDENT’S CORNER

When the Philippines Graphic Reader started in February 2022, it became the first and only nationally-circulated, monthly, literary magazine in the country devoted to...

ISSA, ONE AND ONLY

I am Issa—the one and only. My parents named me Juan, which in English sounds like “one.” In Tagalog, “one” is isa, just like...

Arranging Furniture at Midnight

I move chairs at midnight, Adjusting my wife’s preference Which one is facing which. The cats are doing football Banging on tables and walls. All six of them, Siamese versus...

The Times, They Are A-Changing

Saturday. The afternoon’s stifling heat is rising in waves. Rogie crosses the road and pushes the gate of the compound of Dr Rieu’s residence....

Patterns

The chisel as creator Lends shape to wood, to stone. Shape being the truth of character, Reality of body and bone, Sculpted fact of form, The confidence of matter. The...

Long before Darkness, Or, The Night Ileana Fell in Love

She had lived in the shadows all her life. Literally this meant the shadows of the mountains in the rural town where she was...

Indignation as Elegy

An elephant without a face greeted me on Facebook today, his trunk and tusks hacked away by poachers eager for ivory. At first I thought it was a...

All Fall Down

Anatalia Ayala had promised Bellisima Cua that the story and photos about her winning the Volzhacker Prize would appear in the newspaper’s online lifestyle...

Eight Legs Is All

It’s unfair. With small bodies, they move in all directions. Once a leg gets broken—which usually happens when they resist to be caught—they have...

The King who Had Nothing

“What makes a man a king?” A young pauper asked as he sat on his father’s lap. They sat meekly on the side of...

The News of You

Briefly, just after college, I left my parents’ house, thinking independence was a priceless thing. It was worth it, I liked to remind myself, especially...

THE FIREFLIES

This tale is for Mark Brownrigg It had been a strange week in this village on top of the Antipolo hills. The days were cool,...

Don’t Follow Me, I Don’t Even Know Where I’m Going

“The past is not the past. The future doesn’t exist. It’s a made-up idea. Every mapping what we do of the future is a...

NIGHT ADDICT

For months following the death of his father, the boy did not sleep. Not a single wink for a single hour, every day, every...

Examination

It was two p.m. on a weekday, and she was in the city, in leather shoes that pinched, a hot polyester acrylic blend blouse...

Killing Trees Softly

They were killing us softly it hurt so bad.  Softly, slowly, exceedingly painful. Think of an open wound left to rot under the sun. Dust and...

Three Baggies, One for Each of Us

“Did you get it?” Tobi asked, though he already knew the answer just by the look on Jimwel’s face. “Three baggies, one for each of...