AFTERTHOUGHTS (72)
POST-KOLEKTIB THOUGHTS

First off, thanx so much to all the good people who descended upon Kolektib to see the wild menagerie that was us, all the strange and colourful folk the stellar Nida G.R. has gathered under the VPE umbrella.
Also, I should again apologize profusely to Pogz, for the non-meeting.
To one and all, whether you were at Kolektib yesterday or not, I’d be remiss in my pimping duties if I didn’t repeat: the Penumbra horror/dark fantasy novellas Takod, Parman, and Craving, written by yours truly, are available in book stores (as are all the other wondrous tomes put out by Visual Print Enterprises).
Pelicula, meanwhile, is online here. It’s up to Reel Five, Chapter 34, where an important discussion is conducted in a basketball court in Tondo.

And since I’m already here, I’d like to take this opportunity to publicly acknowledge a number of individuals, for stuff above and beyond…
To the following, whose patronage and help have kept the Iguana well-fed and stocked with reviews: Jeb, Carla and Ed, Bianca, Beau, and Reg.
To Nida, for getting Penumbra out there.
To Budj, Carl, and Karen, for all the support (moral and otherwise), over the long years.
To all of you beautiful people, many, many, many thanx.

And to all of you who’ve dropped by to keep the Iguana company, thanx to you as well! She appreciates your visits…

(Takod cover design by Wawi Navarroza; Parman cover art by Oliver Pulumbarit; Craving cover art and jacket design and Pelicula logo by Carl Vergara; Habagat design and pin-up by Ian Sta. Maria.)

AFTERTHOUGHTS (69)
PIMP MY BOOK (7)
TAKOD

The following is an excerpt from the Penumbra horror/dark fantasy novella, Takod, written by yours truly, and published by Visual Print Enterprises.

She lies awake in bed, sweating, the house looming around her, like a crouching beast, oppressive. Summer has come early this year, the warmth like a herald for Semana Santa, an angel beating its wings, waves of heat radiating outwards from its divine being.

This is the time of death, and resurrection, though for the little girl, it is only the former she understands.
Death.
Death is when your father leaves one early morn, before the sun has even risen, leaves to make a living from the sea, a sea which betrays him, swallowing him whole, taking him into its cold, blue, bottomless throat.

Death, the little girl understands.
Resurrection, she cannot comprehend, a concept she cannot grasp, a word she cannot pronounce.

Outside, skeleton fingers scratch against the thin capis of her room’s window, as if the tree which towers over their home wishes entry. She stares at the window, at the vague shadows outside, not understanding why the tree is moving when she can hear no wind, when it seems too hot for any wind to even exist.
Or perhaps it is the wind from the angel’s wings.
(Her mother would disapprove of this fancy, so she pushes it from her mind.)

Then, as if summoned by her stray thought, a figure appears at her door.
Shadowed, silent, it is her mother.
She wishes her brother were awake, but he is not. He lies next to her, asleep, snoring softly. He looks exactly like her (for they are, after all, twins), and for an instant, she imagines it is she who is asleep, while her brother lies awake in the warm, humid dark.

Barefoot, her mother walks to their bedside.
She towers above them, her children; one asleep, the other, not. The little girl cannot see her mother’s face, cannot pierce the dark shadows which cloak it, like strands of long, ebony hair.
She watches as her mother leans down to plant a kiss on her brother’s smooth cheek. She remembers the Bible story of Judas, and again, pushes the thought away, mindful of her mother.

Then, strangely, impossibly, she watches as her mother, still on the opposite side of the bed, leans, and stretches towards her, somehow keeping her balance with both arms at her sides, as she moves to kiss her (and surely she can’t reach her, not with the bed so wide, not without having to lean over her brother).
She watches, frozen, her mother’s shadowed face moving towards her, dark hair like water, like spider’s silk, framing features she cannot see (and somehow, she knows, she would not want to see, even if she could).

And finally, finally, when her mother’s face is right next to hers, and she can feel the warm, fetid breath on her cheek, feel the feather touch of those dark strands of hair on her neck, she closes her eyes.
Then the wetness is on her mouth, and something slick finds its way past her lips, sliding along her tongue, something spherical and soft, tasting of mold and rot.
It slides down her tongue, her throat, and at last, she opens her eyes, to look upon the cold, blank face of darkness.

If the above tidbit has suitably intrigued you, Takod is available in bookstores. (And if you don’t see it on the shelves, ask for it, please.)
Or, if you’re so inclined, you can drop by Kolektib (Shop 33 in the Cubao Expo) this Saturday, May 24, 2008, and attend “9 in 1: Kolektib Intelidyens,” where I will be among the menagerie of wild writers and artists the good people of Visual Print Enterprises will gather for your awe and amusement.
Takod (and lots of other goodies) will be available there.
It’s from 3pm to 6pm, this Saturday; see Afterthoughts (67) for more details.
Hope to see all you fine folk there!

(Takod cover image and design by Wawi Navarroza.)

AFTERTHOUGHTS (67)
If you happen to be in the area this coming Saturday, May 24, 2008, you may want to drop by Kolektib (Shop 33 in the Cubao Expo), where Visual Print Enterprises is throwing “9 in 1: Kolektib Intelidyens,” a to-do featuring myself and a whole bunch of other writers whose work has been published under their auspices.
I’ll be there pimping the Penumbra novellas (Takod, Craving, and Parman), Carl Vergara will be there pimping ZsaZsa Zaturnnah, and Budjette Tan and Kajo Baldisimo will be there pimping the Trese compilations. (Check the image above for the full line-up.)
If you like any or all of these curiosities, come on by!
That’s Kolektib at the Cubao Expo, May 24, from 3pm to 6pm. (You can find more details here.)
Hope to see all you fine people there!

(Top image courtesy of Visual Print Enterprises; bottom image features art by Carl Vergara, Oliver Pulumbarit, and Wawi Navarroza.)