23 hours ago
Fifteen, eighteen, twenty-one
I once was certain of what lay ahead, even when it was still settled within the vast plane of the…
3 days ago
The smell
My parents never taught me how to walk through floods. I would just sit on our old house’s declining wooden…
5 days ago
That grounded feeling
The thing about seeking professional help is it can make you reliant on your meds. The thing about this statement…
6 days ago
My finest treasure
This story originally appeared in the Philippine Daily Inquirer on November 1, 2005. All throughout my childhood years, my father…
1 week ago
Passion and paychecks
In my dauntless years, I swore to myself that I should never let my passion become a slave to money.…
1 week ago
A little bit more
I paid with a card and waited for the short receipt. My grocery cart is just halfway full. A switch…
2 weeks ago
Life doesn’t pause for death
The day my father died was nothing short of ordinary. A Sunday afternoon in June, with gray skies hanging low,…
2 weeks ago
The return
This story originally appeared in the Philippine Daily Inquirer on October 25, 2005. When I see old childhood friends in…
2 weeks ago
One out of 11,000
There is inherent skepticism among those who perceive education as merely a way to produce skilled but mindless workers for…
2 weeks ago
They’re getting old
A few days ago, my grandfather visited me and brought some rambutan and lanzones (longkong) fruits. I offered him coffee,…
