Tuesday, September 16, 2008

flash 1

i moderated a discussion on blogging by established filipino writers today, and i got encouraged to post a sample of my writing online. here is the first flash fiction piece i ever wrote. this was published by anvil in fastfood fiction, a collection of flash fiction by filipino writers both established and emerging.

Saturday Nights When Quilts Get Ruined

by Jose Claudio B. Guerrero


So how did it happen? Were you alone? Well of course you weren’t alone alone, stupid. I meant, were there other people besides you two? No? Ooh, okay so go on, give me all the gory details. Why not? I’ve got the whole night. Huh? No. He went out with his friends. I have no idea where. And who cares where they are? You’re changing the topic. Well? What do you mean “Well what”? Go on, tell me. Wait, wait, wait. Describe him first. Do I Know him? What do you mean you’re not sure? You know all the people I know. Oh, okay, mysterious bitch, is he tall? Like how tall? About Jake’s height? So, he’s tall. Just a minute. There’s someone at the door. No, no don’t hang up.

You won’t believe this. Do you know who that was? The one at the door, stupid. It was from the florist. Jake had a dozen Ice Queens delivered to me. Ice queens are white roses, dear. Let me read you the card. For Joey, the best thing that ever happened to me. Isn’t he simply darling? I’m the best thing that ever happened to him! Chris, you should really get a boyfriend. You don’t know what you’re missing. I’m so lucky I’ve got Jake. What did you say? You’re happy for me? Well, thanks. Enough about me. So go on. How does he look like? What do you mean you have to go? You can’t do what? Hey, hey, wait. I don’t get you. What’s wrong? Chris, chris, don’t hang up. Chris.


*****

You’re late. No, no don’t explain. It’s okay. I got the flowers you sent me. Thank you. No, don’t. That tickles. No. Not just yet. You’re all sweaty. U-huh. Later. Jake. Want some coffee? Okay, let me get you a cup. Yes, I’ve just finished sewing it. Quilt. Not kilt. Kilts are skirts. You like it? Thanks. Mama taught me. It has a story, actually. How much sugar? It’s about us. Here you go. See? That’s you over there on your beat-up couch. Huh? I look worried? Well, no, nothing’s wrong. I’m okay. It’s just that Chris called me up telling me about this guy he slept with. Hey careful! What’s the matter with you? Oh, Jake, you’ll leave coffee stains. Quick, get some ice. Maybe we can still save it. Damn. It won’t come off.