Here’s the beginning of self’s story, “Dumaguete,” published in issue 1.2 of The White Whale Review. This piece is part of self’s collection, The Lost Language, published in Manila in 2009 by Anvil Press of the Philippines:
DUMAGUETE
When Carlos’ mother decided to take him to Dumaguete, on the other side of the island, he didn’t question her. One day she said, we have to go, and they did, walking with their overnight bags to the bus station, whose uneven ground was pooled with muddy, brown water in which he could detect shapes darting, tiny black minnows. He stumbled once or twice but his mother never paused or looked behind her and he hurried to catch up.
He wondered why she hadn’t asked the driver to take them. Nanding had returned home after dropping off Carlos’ father at the office. But his mother had made the security guard call them a cab. The cab driver had stared at his mother as they got into the back. Carlos wanted to hit him.
His mother had dressed carefully for the trip. She was wearing one of her floaty dresses, and high-heeled white sandals, the better to show off her toes, which were long and thin and elegant and nothing like Carlos’, who in almost everything had taken after his father.
* * *
P.S. Self has two pieces coming out in the Winter issue (appearing around December) of The Writing Disorder, a new web-zine. Stay tuned!
And self just learned — like, 10 minutes ago — that a third piece has been accepted by another literary e-zine! Will post details shortly.
Oh Internet, you are self’s friend.
Kanlaon 