Istoryan Writers

[MrBiddle]

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Sentient Reflections Episode 3

I didn't know I was not the cause but the object...... I was in my position to merely be the object.......... And if my absence took place, another will serve as it's object... But instead of allowing bittnerness to devour me realizing I am merely the object.... I continued my search. I was looking for hope.... But I was also looking for love. For the world kneels before it in awe.

[diem]

Hmmm.. what a natural high it is to find a work find its way from the mind to the print on page. It's not like looking into the eyes of your first newborn child maybe, but something kind of like that

[galenostiel]

the music plays

while i stare down at my striped pink socks
and drown my sorrows in a pint of
double-dutch ice cream.


it rained today

and i looked up at the clouds in greeting
to rejoice in the sound of raindrops as
the skies wept with me.


now i sing softly

to the strains of a sick, sad lovesong...
endless longing, shameless pain --
love unrequited.


and i conclude

that love hurts, love f***ing hurts,
and all i have for comfort are
ice cream & pink socks.


damn it!

listen. the music' still playing,
and the rain still pours.
won't you cry with me, too?

[Von!-x]

This is my first fiction short story, 16 or 17 years since I wrote my last one. Thanks to Diem for the spark! Pm me lang for comments!

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Flowers for Rachel

It was quarter past ten when he saw someone familiar passing by the glass window outside of Starbucks at Ayala Avenue. Fair skinned, long-legged, straight hair, and with a pretty figure. He gulped the last of his iced cappuccino.

"It can't be." he thought. "I must be thinking of Rachel again". He sighed, sat back, and was quickly drawn years back.

Jose Antonio Lucero, or fondly called Anton, knew Rachel since they were thirteen. They were classmates every year in high school, back then at St. Michael’s Academy in Argao, Cebu. He is the shy type but a consistent honor student. Despite the fact that his family owned vast lands in Argao, he remained humble. He came from a very religious closely-knit family. He goes to church at least twice a week and often serve as an altar boy. He’s stood at 5’7’’, with brown and fairly smooth skin. He’s the best looking boy in class and many times he was the class’ prince charming, and she the muse.

Rachel Flores is the beauty queen type. She has this beautiful eyes, straight hair and enticing looks. She was slim and slender, and quite tall for a barrio girl. They said she got it from her father, whom she never knew. She carried her mother’s family name for reasons known only to her mother and grandparents. She lived with her grannies while her mother worked in Manila. She’s a permanent fixture in the town’s every beauty contest. And Anton never skipped any, though just hiding in some dark corridors.

Rachel knew from friends that he got a crush on her, as Anton was told. But he felt she just ignored him, and sometimes, made fun at his inability to act properly at her presence.

That last year in high school was something that he could not forget. He idolized her so much. He swore, almost everyday, at the school's comfort room that he loved Rachel. He prayed, wished, and hoped that somehow, somewhere, she would notice him.

Perhaps, she noticed him. It was the town's fiesta and Rachel was answering a side question.

"What will make you fall in love for a man?" She paused, and Anton felt as though Rachel was looking straight at him in that dark corner. He could see she winked at him before saying, "He should bring me flowers, everyday for a week. I love flowers...."

He walked away, not knowing why. But her words kept ringing on her head. Flowers.....

"Excuse me sir, but are you Anton?" He realized that he ordered sandwich and was not able to hear when his name was first called out.

"Yes, thank you!", was his reply to the smiling girl who brought him his order.

He hurried out of Starbucks hoping to catch a closer glimpse of the girl. "What if it's really Rachel?" he wondered. At the corner of the block he saw her. Yes, it is Rachel. He moved closer, and was about to call out her name when a black and heavily tinted
Mitsubishi Lancer opened its doors in front of her and she quickly jumped in.

The next day, on the same hour and on the same table, he waited. He brought a small bouquet of flowers. He planned to surprise her. "If she's married, i won't care. I'll still give this flower to her" he thought.

It was on a day before their graduation, friends prodded him to give her flowers. He was told that Rachel knew that he had a crush on her. And if he dared giving her flowers on stage on their graduation day, she would be his girlfriend.

"What a dare?" he thought. The idea scared him. But he did brought a bouquet that day, without anyone noticing it. He had her lola prepare it, telling her that he'll give it to his favorite teacher. He hid it underneath his long toga, waiting for the opportunity. Her time to go on stage came, and his close friends took a final look at him. He just bowed his head, and later dropped the flowers in the nearest trash can.

Midnight came, and still no sign of her passing by Starbucks. He had emptied his iced cappuccino an hour ago. He walked out of Starbucks and again dropped the bouquet in the nearest garbage bin.

Friday is a busy day for everybody. He just got out from the office on his 2-10pm duty as one of the managers in a call center at RCBC plaza. He proceeded to Starbucks. He can't help thinking about her again. Four years spent at UP Dilliman wasn't enough to get rid of her from his system. He avoided other girls hoping that one day they'd cross path again. He heard that her family moved to Manila days after their high school graduation. And that she went to some school in Malate but dropped out on third year. He spent some days visiting her school hoping he'd chance upon her but to no avail.

He gave himself only up to the end of this month, to blot Rachel out from his mind, and move on. Until fate, or whatever it is, that brought them on this same path again. Tonight, he only brought a long-stemmed rose. There will be no bouquet. He easily hid it in his jacket but protected the petals. He figured that if she'll ever show up, at least he have a flower on hand.

Thirty minutes past ten and his iced cappuccino is half empty. Then he saw her again, wearing a red dress. He jumped to his feet and chased her outside.

"Rachel" he dared called out. "Rachel" he repeated, unsure if he was heard.

It took a few steps more, in an empty side of the street, when she looked back. There was a surprise look on her face.

The glowing eyes, the pretty face, and the enticing looks was all there. She stood motionless for a minute, studying this guy who knew her name.

"It's me Anton. Remember?"

"Oh hi! Hmmm… What brought you here? You've become more handsome since the last time I saw you" She let out a naughty smile.

Anton didn't know how to react. He was elated that this girl whom he adored and dreamed of for years still recognized him.

She reached out a cigarette from her bag, and began to smoke. "What do you do lately?" she asked puffing smoke in the air.

"I'm a manager of a call center up there." pointing at the RCBC plaza. "Still single and available. How about you?"

She laughed. He wondered how he was able to speak up in front of her. But this time, he had all the guts. This is Manila, and he is no longer the shy province-guy. "Manager, you must be rich nowadays" she quipped.

He shook his head smiling. He was eager to talk to her. "Are you free tonight? Can we talk and reminisce our high school days a little?” He bravely said. God knows how much he missed her. "Here, I brought this flower for you". At last, the time came for him to have the courage to give her at least a flower.

She immediately took it, and smelled its freshness.
"You must have taken my joke seriously back in high school then. I saw you threw away the bouquet you hid in your toga".

He was shocked and quite embarrassed. But still he managed to say, “I have no confidence then.”

"I really love flowers. Perhaps, if you took the dare, I might have taken you seriously then." There was another puff of smoke from her mouth. "Times have changed Anton". The smiling face turned into a serious look. "I am no longer the Rachel you once knew."

"What do you mean?". There was a concerned look on his face. “Are you married?”

"A client would pick me up in five minutes. If you want me for the whole night, that'll be three thousand pesos, discounted rate just for you. I'll give you my number if you're interested."

[MrBiddle]

Sentient Reflections Episode 4

Consumed by rage, she gave in to despair...... but taken over by success, she learned about forgiveness.

[diem]

In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was empty, a formless mass cloaked in darkness. And the Spirit of God was hovering over its surface. Then God said, "Let there be light," and there was light. And God saw that it was good. Then he separated the light from the darkness. God called the light "day" and the darkness "night." Together these made up one day.~ Genesis Chapter 1, Vs 1 to 5, NLT Bible


Keep your eyes on the sun and you will not see the shadows. ~ Aboriginal Australian proverb


Who is there, my friend, can climb to the sky?
Only the gods dwell forever in sunlight.
As for man, his days are numbered,
whatever he may do, it is but wind. ~ Gilgamesh to his ally Enkidu, Epic of Gilgamesh


June 22 Thurs, 0715H
In the morning light a haze of dust rose golden before his tired eyes, as the stout Multicab followed in the wake of a truck. Unlike the other human cargo, he did not turn away nor hide behind a hand. He faced the haze, and took the earthiness of it.

He didn’t feel any different.

The Multicab rolled into the intersection, turning towards the bridge. Looking like a pale green chrome beetle, the vehicle rose up the near 30 degree rise sloping to the crest of the old hanger bridge.

He stared through between a workingman with a thick, dark face and an old fishmongerwoman(her wetware sloshing in the blackpail between her sunburnt legs stemming out the black ruined cloth of a skirt) to beyond the giant steel girders of the bridge that curved Across.

There, on the Channel that swam Between, it shimmered. A Trail of Light. The Tail of the Sun. The Golden Path. He watched it burn brilliant and it waited for him.

Alas, the green Multicab rolled down away, bringing him onto the other island and on the other part of the island.

June 22 Thurs, 1403H
He stared long at the white glare but it did not blind him. A pale eye of light was this machine facing him, cold, callous, cruel. 

Defeated, he blinked before he closed his eyes, there it was like a green scar against the dark of his shut eyelids, the morning memory.

The Bridge of Dawn. The First Star. The Only Way.


That evening, as the sun was going down, Abram fell into a deep sleep. He saw a terrifying vision of darkness and horror.
~ Genesis Chapter 15, verse 12


June 24 Sat, 1930H

“Where were you?”

He opened his eyes and turned to his Companion, lying beside him, naked as he was. He found the room’s yellow light glow on her bare skin, on the arms that she used to embrace him. “Where were you, just now?”

He touched her, but the glow on her was not warm. “I’m here. With you,” he lied.

She knew and the glow was gone from her as she turned away into the shadows by the bed. “No. You were never with me. When we’re together, you are not here.”

He knew she was right as he turned away, towards the bulb on the ceiling. When the moment came for him, he saw it like the flash of a dream, a blast of blinding truth and it left him alive and breathless and free. But he was alone. He was alone.

“Where were you?”


At first flash of Eden, We race down to the sea.
Standing there on Freedom's shore.
Waiting for the sun... ~Jim Morrison, "Waiting for the Sun" on the album Morrison Hotel (1970)


June 25 Sun, 1819H
Day was fading, He was walking along the edge of the bridge that was safe for humans. He saw the traffic pass him by but did not hear the noise.

He saw the tips of his bangs quiver above his eyes, quiver with the wind’s touch. But was there wind? He could not feel.

Day was fading and there somewhere he stopped, and stood still. As a steel girder of the hanger bridge. 


June 25 Sun, 1819H
Day was fading, Night was spreading. He waited still as a steel girder of the bridge that curved Across the Channel that swam Between.

He stared at the waters below, blue and dark blue. Then it came. A shimmer. and Another. A shower of Shimmers. A school of shimmers congealing like melted fire.

A Trail of Light. The Tail of the Sun. The Golden Path. The Door to the Sky. It waited for him.


What if I missed you
You got caught in the sun
What if I did something
Never to be enough

Will you wait for me
Or will I be to late this time
You are there for me this I hope and pray
~the band Course of Nature, from their Superkala Album


No one saw him fall. No one saw the waves catching him in a white splash. No one saw him survive, him floating above the darkening water.

The Bridge of Dawn. The First Star. The Only Way

It was fading with the Day. He swam for it and grasped for a Shimmer. It held him, a solid cast of gold. He pulled himself out from the cold, callous, cruel darkening waters of the Channel that Swam between.

He stood, he stood on the Shimmers. He stood on the Trail of Light. He took a step  forward along the Tail of the Sun. He took another step, and on, and on and on he ran on the Golden Path that waited for him.

He felt. He felt his skin bursting into a million pieces, a million pearls of flame. Something that glowed and burned and shimmered broke from the Unfeeling Shell that was him. Now, the Glowing burning Shimmering melted with the Trail, the Tail, the Path that lead the Way to the Place where the Light goes when Night reigns and could be only seen by Those Who Remain as Glimpses we call only as the Stars.

[Von!-x]

Waiting for Love

Ron woke up from his bed with a feeling of relief. “This is strange!” he thought

Strange indeed! Last night he was banging his head on the wall. Every morning since the last three months, he wakes up every morning with a headache, mild or severe. Vomiting is usual. He can feel the pain every now and then.

Sometimes he screamed. Sometimes he just closed his eyes and imagined heaven. He was diagnosed with a metastatic brain cancer a few months ago and was given 6 months to live. Now he only have days left. In fact, he survived for eight months.

He opened his window and was greeted with the beautiful sunshine. “Am I still alive?” he asked himself and trying to feel his own skin, bit his lips and even touched his hair.

He looked for a mirror and there found himself in good shape. He shook his head, fixed his glasses and smiled.

--- * ----

At 24, Ron understands everything. Many times he asked God why it happened to him, and there seemed too many answers from too many people.

“Ah, it’s because of your father who had an affair with your maid. You’re paying for his sins.” He heard this many times from their old laundrywoman. Indeed, his father did this damned thing ten years ago. He never cared for the other woman and for their son. It was heard that she cursed him and Ron. Years later, Ron’s father left him and his mom to live with a younger woman in Davao. And he never heard of him again. He did not miss him either.

Each day is a long wait. But he prepared himself for his time with death, and his faith to God is getting stronger everyday. “This is God’s will for me” he assures himself.

Along with his daily struggles, Ron also kept thinking about Anna. Anna Liberty Chua was his first and only girlfriend. They knew each other while studying at the University of San Carlos. She was a junior at the college of nursing, and he, a graduating computer science student. They saw each other almost everyday until she passed the US Nursing state board exam. Her parents want her to go to America immediately, as both of her parents are in the US. She had no choice but to oblige.

They were both very young, and marriage was not yet on their mind. Ron gave her an ultimatum, “You choose between me and the US”, which he regret later on.

She broke up with him and immediately flew to the US, not leaving any open line for communication. She just left a letter which says:

“Dear Ron,

You left me no choice at all. I love you, but you made me choose the hard way. I don’t understand why. Is it because you love me or you just wanted me for yourself? I still have to pursue my dreams, and the best way is to leave, for now. But I’ll be back one day. I hope you’ll wait for me. If you have any letters for me, just give it to yaya. She knows what to do with it. If you can’t and don’t want to wait for me, you can go on with your life.

Love you always,

Anna

p.s. Take care of yourself.

For weeks he cried. He never wrote her for three long months, wanting to let her also feel the pain of loss. He was stubborn and proud, until he was diagnosed with a late-stage cancer. This explains why three years ago, he suffered headaches. It didn’t happen when Anna is around. The pain seems to vanish with her, and he mastered concealing the pain. He never attempted to tell it to her though, dismissing it as simple migraine.

But now the pain is unbearable. He wrote her a day after the bad news broke out, but still withholding the real situation.

“Dear Anna,

How are you? I know I was stubborn and proud to let you go. I am very sorry. You know how much I love you. I love you more than I love my own life. I regret having put you on that situation. Please come back for me. I love you, and I will wait for you.

Love,

Ron”

He got no reply. The yaya also said nothing about Anna. She just smiled when he personally handed her the letter.

“Do you know her number? Can you please give me her number? I really want to talk to her. Please…”

“She’ll come back soon. I don’t have her number. She’s the one who’ll make a call. She wants you to wait for her, if you can. ” She just smiled and shook her head.

The feeling of loneliness compounded the pain he is suffering. She told him to wait, but how can he, when his time is running out. He wrote her every week since then but got no reply. He told her all his love and how he sorely missed her. But still, he did not tell her about his deadly illness. It’s been a year now since she left, and Ron is getting desperate.

Then Ron wrote Anna a letter for the last time. He told her everything about his situation.

“Dear Anna,

My time to go is very near. I am sorry that I cannot wait for you anymore. I was given 6 months to live when they first diagnosed me with a brain cancer. Now I’m approaching the 8th month, and I am just counting days, if not hours. I thank God for everyday. I thank God for the opportunity of loving and being loved by you.

I love you. Sorry for not telling you about this earlier. Sometimes I thought you wouldn’t care anymore, coz I haven’t got a reply to all my letters. Perhaps, even if you’ve forgotten everything about us, I pray that God will keep you safe.

Sorry, I cannot wait for love any longer.

Love,

Ron
--- * ---

Sensing that death is at his doorstep, Ron thanked God by praying, “Thank you Lord! For this wonderful day, you’ve given me once more”. And he cried again, “God, may it not be a painful one. May you take care of Mom and may you take care of Anna, too”.

He heard a knock on the dear! “How are you my son?” he heard her mother. He opened the door and was thankful it was not death himself.

He hugged her. Everyday he hugged his mom, but this time it’s tighter, like he’ll never hug her again. Tears rolled from his eyes. “I love you mama!”

“I love you too, Ron!”. She cried too! “We’ll have visitor this morning.”

“Who is it ma?”.

“It’s a surprise.” Her eyes opened wide.

For him, each day is a surprise already. Waking up alive is a surprise. He smiled at his mother, while wiping away some of his tears.

“I’ll go and prepare breakfast” she said.

He nodded while she left him with a kiss on the forehead. His mother had been his best friend since his father left them. At 50, she retired early as a manager of a bank just to take care of her only son. He’s the only one left for her.

Ron resurveyed his room with his eyes. Then he stood up to look outside the window again. He can see the road, the lush green garden of their neighbor, and the taxi which stopped at their front gate. A girl wearing a red dress stepped down. Though it was blurry for him, he can see that it is Anna.

“Is it true or am I just dreaming?”

But the sudden pain on his head caught him. He held it with both his hands. He screamed at that top of his lungs, banged his head. He felt that his head is going to blow. Then he went straight to his bed trying to resist the pain while lying on his back.

“This could be my last hour” he thought. “God, let me see Anna, for one last time”

Then everything around faded to grey. Then darkness sets in. The pain subsided but he could not move. He heard voices and footsteps, but he could not see. He heard the slamming of the door and the two crying women. Both are familiar, and one has the voice he missed for so long. He wanted to see a glimpse of her but everything is black. In the darkness he wanted to create an image, but there was none. Memory also left him.

“Why did you not wait for me? I am sorry for not coming early. I thought everything was alright with you until I received your letter 4 days ago. Sorry I deliberately cut off all our communications. I did not wish to hurt you, but just wanted to test the depth of your love” she sobbed. “Ron, please wake up. Don’t die yet. I have just arrived from California, and wanted so much to see you. I’m sorry for making you wait for so long”. She wailed and wailed. And the pleadings have no more effect on Ron.

In the darkness Ron saw light at the far end, like a tunnel. He could no longer hear the voices, as he was drawn closer and closer to the light.

[astroboyreal]

1st place division press conference (sports writing category) (2000-2001)
1st place division press conference (sports writing category) (2004-2005)
contributed a poem for kaplag
contributed a numerous of poetry for YOU section of the inquirer magazine

[cyril-crusade]

hi there, here's one of the things i wrote long ago and its about women... hehe i hope you like it

"A woman is never measured with the power of her charm but with the strength of her heart"

[astroboyreal]

kinsa apil og andres dire?