by Keith Sicat

Illustration credits: Layout: Keith Sicat; Line Art: Ydunn Lopez; Colors: Jose Abantao, Jr.

Slender, spider-like fingers clutch at Ewa’s trembling womb. The musty odor of fright mingles with the salty aggression whirling about her, forcing her to take rapid sips of air.  Scanning the snarling mouths of these women camouflaged beneath a layer of dried purple mud and chalky white warpaint, Ewa looks for any sign of her companion in this cavernous dome of leather hide, but he is nowhere to be found.  It is only she in the sea of the savage faces of her captors.

The drumming in her chest muffles all the other sounds she tries to focus on. The tall one standing over her hides her eyes behind the spade-like skull of one of the endemic beasts of this world, her full lips and long, sinewy form suggests an other-worldly beauty.  The bone mask covering her face resembles an infant version of the massive beast that attacked Ewa and her surviving crewmates after the crash many moons ago– this skyscraper-sized monster that emerged from the ground swallowing their ruined ship as it rose to the sky.  The bulk of its body blended serpent and whale lined with an armored hide revealing pustules on its flanks that would inflate granting the beast flight,  its thousand tendril-tongue working in unison to ensnare its prey before guiding it into the maw between its bifurcated mandible.  It is this world’s version of a bakunawa, the mythological dragon that swallows the moon.

M. A. Del Rosario, the author of the first story in PGS 2023, “CAÑAO”, is a dreamer and a storyteller. He is also a published author of short stories and graphic novels, both locally and in the U.S. He likes to make up and draw his stories. He is an advocate of reading. He tells people to go to libraries and bookshops. He lives with his family in a quiet subdivision where fireflies still exist, and where cats question the existence of men. Sometimes he talks to gods lost at sea. He still believes that magic is real. You can visit him at www.paperdrawing.com, and here he is for now generously answering some questions.

Happy New Year! And what better way for this period between the Gregorian calendar New Year and the Asian Lunar New Year to begin than with the marked transition between guest-editorships!

So let’s put these deserving two front and center, and both with deep gratitude.

by M.A. Del Rosario

Illustration by M.A. Del Rosario

Her mouth blew through the pipes of her diwdiw-as. The pan flute originally belonged to her mother, and before that, her ancestors. The music started at a violent pace at first, fast, like the savagery of storms. It was as if she were back in the mountains where the summit touched the clouds. She felt the mist dampen her face. The skies above grew dark. And then the music slowed in tempo, calm, peaceful, regaining composure and clarity. The sky above cleared. 

She thought she had imagined this. Her audience were the stars that illuminated the reality of her surroundings: in the backyard of an old tenement building in a rundown area of Manila. Around her was the world– the real world, the poor world– with people walking and talking and thinking about how they would survive another day. Her music pierced reality. It stopped to listen and remember the old world and its simplicity, of a time fueled by imagination and discovery– a distant memory.

“Sing with me,” she whispered to the wind, and the wind responded with a light breeze that was a subtle whistle. It breathed with the melody of her music.

The night listened. A falling star brushed across the sky. The moment lingered forever.

by Jose Guerra Sison

Do you want to live, child?” He asked, holding His hand out to me. His face, I could barely see, as a bright light shone behind him. I stared at His outstretched hand, dumbfounded by the question. Did He really need to ask? I took it without hesitation. His warmth took the edge off the hunger that had lived inside me for years.

“Remember Me and keep the faith.” 

I nodded. As the bright light behind him faded, I felt an immense energy between His hand and mine, manifesting into a ball of pure light. It blazed like the sun, before turning into a smooth, round onyx nestled in my palm. 

“This is a mark of My trust, and your faith. You will know when to use it.” 

Then He vanished into a canopy of flames.