by Anne Carly Abad

Webbed lines of electricity flitted across the Motherlode’s network of metal neurons. Evan thought it funny that despite all the rage about Live Vision, they were still using thumb drives to upload shows to Mother. He let his thoughts fly and tuned in to the broadcast, just to make sure the sound and video were good. The actors’ faces were clear. Volume was just right. No lag.

Okay, done. And he disconnected himself. The images dissipated into thin air. He handed back the thumb drive to Maia. He tried not to look at her face.

Maia took it from him, flinching at an accidental brush of their fingers. Their hearts raced in synch. I’m sorry! She apologized again, and again, and again, but never met his eyes. It was a mere touch. She didn’t need to act so guilty about it, thought Evan.

What’s wrong? Want to talk about it?

Dan Merais is a Cavite-based fiction writer. In 2020, he graduated with the degree of MA in Psychology Major in Clinical Psychology in De La Salle University- Dasmariñas. He worked as a writing consultant for 8 years, but he is now working as a psychology professor in De La Salle University – Dasmariñas. He has published two science-fiction short stories (“The Teleporting Man” and “A Nightmare on RPS Obsidian”) in Pinoy Sci-Fi anthologies. He aims to make science fiction more popular in the Philippines. Dan is also a mental health advocate, which is why he wrote the novel entitled Lana that was launched during the last Manila International Book Fair. He has another, “The Hummingbird Paradox“, due out at this year’s MIBF.

by Dan Merais

(Warning: this story involves suicide as a topic and may cause reactions in the emotionally challenged. It is recommended that in the event such emotions are triggered, please click here for the National Center for Mental Health crisis hotline of the Philippines.)

When Philip woke up this morning, he said to himself, I want to die now. 

So that’s what he did. 

But before that, he had a small celebration for his last day on Earth. First, he had sunny side-ups. Then, he bought fried chicken and beer. Also razor blades.

Back at home, he watched Groundhog Day, his favorite film. It gave him time to think about whether he still wanted to die. When he was done watching it, he grabbed the razor blades and proceeded to his bathroom.

In the past few weeks, he read about different ways to commit suicide. In the end, he decided to kill himself in his bathtub since it seemed to be the most comfortable way to die. After filling his bathtub with warm water, he sat in it, slit his wrists, watched his blood spread in the water, and waited to finally lose consciousness.

This was where it should have ended.

If it wasn’t for Life Corp. 

Raissa Claire R. Falgui is a Filipina author whose most recent speculative fiction publications include a story in the anthology Fly by Night, and several in her collection Dreaming of the Sea. Due to the knowledge she has picked up throughout her studies and various writing and editing jobs, most of her works have to do with history, culture, and mythology often combined with elements of romance. Her historical novel Woman in a Frame was shortlisted for the Philippine National Book Awards in 2015. Her collection Virtual Centre and other Science Fiction Stories, published by Penguin Random House SEA, includes an update of her Palanca-winning future fiction story. 

Now an editor at Milflores Publishing, she is a graduate of the University of the Philippines with an MA in Creative Writing and a BA in Art Studies. She is married to Ateneo English teacher Joel Falgui and they have three children.

by  Raissa Claire R. Falgui

(image from Wikipedia)

I saw him blundering through the forest before he saw me. Naturally. I was the goddess of Mt. Makiling and he was a mere mortal. And he was getting old. It had been over twenty years since I had last seen him. But I knew him, old and stooped and anguished as he was. 

“What a surprise to see you here, Dodong,” I said, as I appeared before him. “How have you been all these years? And how is my namesake?”

For he had named his daughter, his only child, after me. That had been what he promised me after digging up a pot of gold from beneath the roots of the mighty narra tree I had forbidden the ambitious furniture-maker to cut down. A simple reward for his humble compliance. He was so delighted! 

Though I said nothing of it, I made sure that my future namesake would be blessed with all the finest attributes. Beauty. Grace. A way with plants, especially flowers. She was such a perfect epitome of femininity, I heard that she managed to transcend her plain, common name of Maria the Spaniards had tacked onto my true name Makiling, and became known as Mariang Mayumi. Simply Mayumi, in recent years, for her sweet and modest nature. Overly modest, perhaps. She was known in her town for extreme shyness and reticence.