Istoryan Writers

[aridoasis]

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@diem: wee! that's be nice

[diem]

Every thing starts somewhere, somehow.

For Ana, it must have been those late nights, logging out a very long day at work. Dale, having the typical large Filipino appetite, would invite her to any convenient 24 hour fastfood, street grill, silog-silogan, or some other open foodplace depending on his craving. And Ana would accept, all in good fun and friendship— because with his pleasant looks, quick wit, and joker nature, Dale is fun to be with.

Not to mention his appetite is infectious. When he chews that first bite, his face swells with satisfaction and he makes these appreciative sounds and comments— “Mmm, gooood,” he would say or “Sigh-! Lami ah!” he would smack, mouth open to eat more.

Ana soon finds herself realizing pleasure watching Dale eat while she talks. His mouth ever full, chewing, relishing each chunk, allowing his tastebuds to do their work, Dale is an ardent listener— Ana likes that about him. And that he’s married, a family man, a responsible father— a good man.

She likes that very much.

It gives her a safe feeling to have that solid manly substance hovering near by, that it does not bother one bit when she realizes that she’s spending more and more late nights at her cubicle just to spend time with Dale.

“An, date naman tayo—!”

“Sure ba-!”

It feels good to have a man take you out for a meal, encourage you to have your fill, to hear you out sincerely and say kind, gentle words— full of concern, full of love— as a brother would, as a father would, as a lover should—

No one could know, no one could guess any thing is happening between Ana and Dale, they’re co-workers, just friends. No one could expect anything from Ana, pretty in a way yet androgynous to a fault.

Dale has a picture of his young wife, Lina Mae, plump in all the right places— comely as any happy wife should. Lina Mae looked her best in that wallet photo, adorned by the eager smiles of her and Dale’s children, plump and perfect with youth.

Ana wants to have something like that, someday, somehow. Maybe if she eats a bit more and fill herself more, maybe just maybe—

Maybe, Ana thinks, I would dress more feminine today at work, wear those large roundwire earrings, paint some blush on my cheeks and splash that foreign perfume. Everybody would think that something is going down in the fallacy which is Ana’s social life. They’d compliment, question, tease, and stare as they pass by her workstation, betraying their intrigue.

“I just wanted to feel good today.”

Ana would stay late, longer than the others eager to quit and save what’s left of the day for themselves. But not as longer than Dale who would see her, smile at her direction— “Labas tayo, let’s eat.”

Ana would not play it coy, not yet. “Okay— pero ako naman mag treat sa iyo” Damn! Where the hell did that come from? Ana forcefully hides her regret as she watches Dale’s reaction.

But the man has only one thing on his mind and that is there is nothing is inside his stomach. “Sige, let’s go.”

As they sit down, making small talk, waiting for the marlin and the pork bellies to burn just right— Ana feels electricity throbbing through her body, numbing her skin, staling her mouth, heating up her mind for the prospect that maybe, just maybe—

Dale is enjoying the free meal, Ana makes sure of it— enticing out the easygoing joker that he is. With beer, just enough to relax— then Ana would talk about men, her men, who are nothing more but big boys, all out playing the game that adults play.

Dale as ever listens empathetically, smiling with sympathy, staring at her with sincere concern. It thrills Ana to no end, maybe— just maybe.

On the curb, waiting for a chance taxi— Ana takes the chance, rubbing her arms, her neck, pretending to be cold. Dale turns to her and drapes an arm around her, pulling her close to him. They rub sides, Ana senses the solid heat that comes from him— maybe just maybe.

Ana wills Dale to look at her, see her and somehow he does. He looks straight at her, into her, sees her eyes grow with anticipation.

Dale knows its Ana’s hand touching his back, round and round in small circles between his shoulders— round and round— the motion is hypnotic, melancholic. Dale believes he sees the need in Ana’s and being the good sort of person, he complies.

The kiss excites Ana whose mouth opens for more. The night melts away, the street is gone— all Ana knows is this, the kiss.

Dale finally pulls back awkwardly, flushed, his lips quivering with what just transpired. He looks away, a contrite child. Ana remains the adult, full of reassurance, connivance.

“Hey, hey?— Dale, its okay. Hey?”

“I’m sorry.”

To prove its all right, Ana kisses Dale again and, she notes, he kisses back.

When you kiss, embrace, your bodies form a tiny electromagnetic field that somewhat, somehow opposes the gravity of the planet— this woman likes to believe.

Ana feels, this is good, so goood, mmm-!

Dale pushes her back but not hard, watching her with whys in his eyes. She stares back, unashamed, forward, true—

“I’ve got to go— home.” He leaves her quickly and Ana lets him, a part of her knowing that if she offers, he just might bite. Three weeks of silent waiting, working at her station, just being there— the bait in the hook. Dale is a good man, but a man. A man. A man.

He kisses her. “Ano ba ang gusto mo? I can’t, I—“

Just give me this please. “Alam ko, I understand. Ito lang—“

They’d steal away time, nights, dark places. Where they could be only them. “We have to be careful.”

“Oo, baby.”

Dale makes Ana feel alive, fill so with good—! His palms, her skin, his want, her need, their flesh— Ana knows Dale is a good man so isn’t this a kind of love? Who? Who gets to decide what is love?! Ana thinks. I- I- Need? Want? More? Or in the end, is it will be nothing at all?

Everything ends somewhere, somehow. Dale is a good man but Ana is the adult— she knows every thing ends.

There’ll be no happy/good endings for Ana’s love story.

This is a love story for her, a good thing, believes Ana—

Yet if Dale leaves his family, he would also forfeit the very reason why Ana wanted him. She doesn’t mean to turn Dale bad, she only needed to feel part of someone good. Selfish, lonely, definitely—

Human.

[dAmNseL jEnY]

Wow diem...Watta piece! oh dang! It is well-crafted. You made your readers feel what Ana felt...Dang, it made me weep...

I bet the ultimate Gaiman award goes to you

[diem]

@damsel, sana sana sana-- by the way, if you need any help in story concepts, pm me-- i got dozens...

OT: though I'm already collaborating with an artist with our comic and I'm sending my own story rin... I just like working with creative people, magtulungan tayo-- gusto ko lang bragging rights, na iyan gawa ni damsel, ako nag-inspired iyan ahehehehe

[dAmNseL jEnY]

@diem--weee! yer sooo generous...anyhoo, i got a new story but the mid part was not thoroughly polished..still, yours will be the ultimate BANG! (based on my judgment to yer previous post)...are you a Palanca Awardee?

[diem]

@damnsel jeny, no I haven't yet had the honor but that doesn't stop me for trying-!

@everyone, so keep on writing-- keep on tempering your talent-! pagkatapos post here-! hindi basta basta lang ang magsulat-!

[diem]

The breath of night whispered, I’m here. Sabine woke and found moonlight glowing cold through the wooden shutters. She stretched out underneath the silk sheets, feeling the fabric as light as air, as smooth as her own skin. The sheets came with the bed, and the bed was bought in Paris a long time ago. A long time. Sabine lay still, remembering how long it was until the door creaked open, the Gentleman was calling. Sabine rose from the bed, the silk fell like water, rippling on the mattress. She dressed in her whitefleece gown and moved silently barefoot towards the door. The country house belonged to the Gentleman, his family called this place home for many generations. Sabine could easily remember the first night she arrived, she was ten, an orphan. Sabine tried to go back in her mind further than that memory and came up blank, apparently her life began when she met Him. And maybe that’s how life usually begins, when one falls in love for the first time. The Gentleman had dark luxurious hair, the lines of his face and body seem to burst with the strength of a storm yet his eyes were clear with kindness as he stroked her neck affectionately. He told her that this was her home now, their sanctuary. Not the coldhearted streets walked by strangers nor the wet dank alleys of the dark city. This country home standing proud and bright against the night, nestled in the embrace of hundred year old acacias was hers, and she was his. Sabine loved the Gentleman then and wished never to be apart ever. The Gentleman took away her rags, bathed her with soap and cream. He dressed her in white lace like a bride, with ribbons for her hair. He fed her and filled her mind with learning so much so she can speak like him and to him, striving as his equal. How Sabine enjoyed his laugh, delighted by her wit. Yet his brilliant eyes would betray another source of mirth, an old joke—Sabine soon realized that she will always be a child to the Gentleman. When she was ready, he brought her to his town home and took her to parties, dinners and balls. The Gentleman knew a lot of people and loved to socialize. She was introduced as his daughter and was accepted. The child Sabine disliked that. She knew she was more to the Gentleman than an adorable doll to play and coo at. Then again it was really a game, between Sabine and her Gentleman against the rest of them, the foolish and unaware. “Let them have their days, Sabine, we will have our midnights for play.” Yet Sabine hated them even as they fawn over her, calling her a cherub, a beauty. If these strangers only knew that she was once a street rag that they ignored! If they only knew, but they were all foolish and unaware, even when the Gentleman invited some to the country house. How they chirped and chatted, casting their fanciful delights to the Gentleman. How they, lad or lady, desired him, how they lusted after him until the Gentleman showed his other face. How the fire of desire die in their hearts, their bodies run cold and limp as the Gentleman has his fill. Their eyes would freeze wide and round, with fear! Fear! Only she Sabine have seen the Gentleman’s other face and did not fear for the Gentleman would never harm her. He promised.
Sabine grew more beautiful as the Gentleman remained as he was, a mountain, a deep river. The Gentleman showed her the other cities and faces of the world across the Oceans, Paris, Morroco, New York, Vienna, the seaports of Hongkong and Manila, the ruins of Greece, the sands of Sahara and the snows of Tibet. And being more able physically, Sabine was happy to take care of her Gentleman, being his blushing bride, his devoted wife. As they explored, the rules of time changed from place to place- and the Gentleman must have his fill. Sabine played the game, enticed lovely youths and aphrodites with romance and chances, led each and everyone into her bedroom where her Gentleman, her husband waited. Soon the days bloomed into years and Sabine’s love for her Gentleman remained strong and filling despite the change that was upon him. By fate, an enemy chanced on the Gentleman and tried to kill him but the Gentleman won the fight and celebrated by filling himself of his enemy. But it was cursed blood, the stream was tainted. A disease took hold of the Gentleman leaving him constantly weak and frail, he cannot change. His other face, the hidden side, remained revealed. But Sabine was undettered, she brought him home to the place she will always love him. She cared for him, filled him, and during the nights, he cried in pain for loss, driven to pathetic madness- Sabine grieved with him, held him in her arms even as he clawed her raw, betraying his promise, but Sabine forgived, her love forgives. He slept in the silent darkness, as she healed during the days. Now the Gentleman was calling her once again, “Sabine, Sabine.” She could feel the hunger echo in her Gentleman’s voice. Her eyes, now accustomed to the shadows, guided her to the secret stone stairs winding down into the bowels of the earth. “Sabine, Sabine, Sabine” her Gentleman cried. “Beloved, I’m here, I’m here.” Sabine stood before the stone table at the middle of the dark chamber. A sob reached out for the darkness, “Sabine I need you.” “Love, my love I’m here,” Sabine searched with her eyes, her ears, her heart. “Come to me, come.” A moment went and he came to her from behind. She turned to face him but he still hid in the cloak of shadows. With her hands she made out his form, shivering with misery as he sat on the stone table. She embraced him, comforting him as he cried. The Gentleman bore no tears, his eyes are dry as deserts so Sabine wept for him. Having him close, Sabine recognized the hunger in him a stranger, it’s not of the fill, but an emptiness that was devouring him. She was aware of his caress on her throat, the beloved fondling. “What is it, my love?” She asked, pleading him. His answer came in a hoarse whisper, “Let me die, Sabine, let me die.” Then his hands, dry and hard bone, gripped her throat- choking her as he looked into her eyes. “Let me die!” Sabine’s breath stopped as she stared at this monstrous mask etched with loathing and despair. She pulled the cold claw away and because he is weak, the creature succumed to more sobbing. The pain, the betrayal flamed Sabine’s ire. “Why are you like this, why do you speak so?” Her voice screamed against the walls, beating, hitting the creature’s cries into silence. “Have I done nothing right? Do I mean nothing to you?” The creature did not respond. Angry, Sabine turned to leave but stopped and spoke, her voice failing. “If you wish to suffer this way, you will have no fill tonight!” If he begged for mercy, for compassion, Sabine did not know- she only heard her own steps on stone, her own heart bruised. She did not go far. Sabine rested at the head of the secret stairs, glaring down into the abyss. Waiting, expecting his cries of regret, remorse, begging her to come back, begging her love to forgive him. Lately, the Gentleman was asking to die, searching for death. His search tormented Sabine. Craven he had become, the storm of a man now stilled to a mere wisp. He couldn’t do it himself, he asked Sabine to do it for him. Burn him, impale him, drown him, behead him. Sabine covered her ears, forcing her mind to snuff out these thoughts. She could not bear it. If he’s gone, Sabine is gone. Without the Gentleman, Sabine is no more but a street rag, a human mote. Sabine believed her love, her blood, could cure him. He would revive, he would be reborn. He just needed to believe as much as she did, to want it as much as she. Then their love would be truly immortal. Sabine waited but the silence taunted her. She descended once again into the pit. She wanted to check on him if he was sleeping, his only reprieve from the misery. The darkness was deep and warm as a womb. It swallowed Sabine whole. She found the table’s edge struck hard at her belly, she sought for his form and realized it wasn’t there. Carefully, she slid her bare feet across the dusty earth, perhaps he might have laid on the floor. Then she realized the wall of the chamber, hard and unrelenting against her palms. Sabine let the wall guide her to the corner onto the other wall. “Where are you?” she whispered. Her fingers touched something, cool, round and smooth- gold, silver? Sabine touched more and discovered the frame of something. Sabine pressed her palm forward, touched a dusty film. She wiped away the dust and suddenly she found her own reflection staring straight at her. This was a mirror. She stepped back, looking straight at herself. Her reflection was pale, her ghost, but still beautiful, beautiful beyond this world, radiant as the full moon. Vain, Sabine raised her head and noticed the two dark spots on the base of her neck. As her fingers probed their reality and found them to be wounds, old scars. Sabine’s mind opened into the past, the secret veil pulled away from the truth. The chamber was bright with candlelight and the Gentleman was sobbing, crumpled by his pain at one corner of the room. “I want to die, Sabine.” “No, my love, listen to me. Let me take care of you. Let me fill you.” He pulled away, afraid. “No-! I promised you shall not harmed, not be damned. Leave me to die, leave me and live!” Now she was afraid. “How could I live without you? Make me live like you, don’t let me die- and we will be together, forever playing the Game.” “No, no, NO! Don’t force me.” He wept and Sabine cried at him, “You selfish thing! I thought you loved me and you deny me this?” “Help me, Sabine,” he begged. She felt no pity for him, only hate for this was not her Gentleman only a creature in pain. “If you wish to suffer this way, you will have no fill tonight!” She left him in the darkness, locked in the chamber and waited by the secret stairs. For several nights melting into weeks, she heard his hunger moaned and wailed. The foundations of the house shook and groaned. Yet Sabine was adamant, only when she heard the whisper of silence did she unlock the door. He was upon her instantly, his desire drained her and filled her with darkness. And Sabine held him close until her loving heart was silenced. She could remember her last breath whispering out his name. “I’m here.” When Sabine awoke, she experienced the world anew. Reborn, she was sensitive to the changes in her body, its emptiness and yet it was being filled by the night. The first pangs of hunger seized her entire being and it drove her to realize that the Gentleman was watching her. “What have I done? Look at what you made me do?” But he wasn’t crying, he was full of her love. Sabine knew and despite the pain in his eyes, she kissed him. “My love, now we will be together, forever.” This was all she wanted but he was silent. She had to leave him for the moment, she needed to fill. And what a feeling it was, to satiate the hunger, to be filled. Sabine returned home to find smog blanketing the house. She reached inside only to find flames leaping out of the secret stairs, dragon’s breath. Deep inside, Sabine saw Him remain silent even as the fire ripped him apart. The screams were her own. Soon the flames disappeared and the darkness grew. His ashes covered the floor, the walls, the mirror of the chamber. And Sabine returned, the century old madness clearing from her mind. The creature trapped in the chamber, alone, crying out her name in a whisper creaking like the rusty hinges of the ruined house, plagued with grief and loss, miserable beyond death was Sabine herself. Her other face, her pain was apparent in her reflection. She turned around and saw the empty chamber, always empty and she immortally alone. Without him, she is nothing. Sabine wept but her eyes are dry deserts. She was empty, she was darkness. She needed to be filled. The night beckoned to her and she followed, the chamber forsaken, the secret stairs forgotten, the ruined sanctuary abandoned. Only her love she carried with her into the breaking dawn of day. As the sun embraced her and before she bursted into fiery light, Sabine felt alive once more.

[boredtosanity]

Nagbaha man diay ug talent sa Pinas, how come dili jud popular ug halinon ang Philippine literature?
Correct jud ang observations sa mga tawo in this certain Yahoo group I belong to..

Anyway, diemjudilla, will your plan push through? You know, the one regarding a writing workshop here in Cebu? I wanna join. Hopefully madayon to.. and hopefully on a weekend para daghan makaattend

I've had a short story and short poem published online lang (on you.inq7.net) pero I still can't say I'm a writer. I think natay-an na sad ko and I really wanna re-learn the craft, and get published, and get bragging rights too. Har har har...

It's time our generation proves everyone wrong, and proves that Philippine literature, too, can get on the bestseller's list. Di ba?

[diem]

@boredtosanity, do you belong to pinoy writers? that's the general topic of the past few posts that Filipino novels are dead or comatose i suggest you relearn by just writing... writers write.

The seminar for writers I'm talking about will hopefully push through once the logistics are figured out. They plan to help writers find editors and publishers.

[boredtosanity]

Cool! I hope the date can be set soon so I can arrange for it, para wala'y conflicts sa ako schedule (as if unsa ko ka busy)
I really wanna explore the field of writing (again), pero right now medyo busy jud ko with my day job.

And yeah, I do belong to that group. I think I've read your post there too several days/weeks ago