Ink Blood Milk
by Jay Pee Yu
She had waited for an hour before the band gained the stage and put everything on gear. When all were settled and equipped, and the crowd huddled, they began to rip the air; drums were hollowed out, guitars were strummed. And he, her musical hero, on the vocals, screamed, growled, and sang the hellfire melody, drowning in his own lyrical ecstasy.
Although it was “Ink Blood Milk” they were playing, her favorite track, she heard a different person, not him: it was someone older, as ancient as death itself, with an otherworldly voice dreamier than the universal parade of stars.
Extremely appalled, she slipped through the intoxicated crowd, rushed out of the bar, and went home. She sauntered toward the bathroom, pulled the shower curtain, and let the water slosh into the tub. She lay down, immersed herself to the bottom, evading his presence; but she nonetheless heard him singing to her His song.
I live in Bulacan, Philippines. I studied Graphic Arts and Printing Technology at the Technological University of the Philippines - something quite far from writing. I liberate my thoughts while keeping our sari-sari store (a mini built-in-a-house convenience store) on guard at night, and watch people as they come and go off the store. From them I draw characters that I apply in my stories. I read a lot of fiction, and try to write more as much as possible. I love kwek-kwek, isaw, and sago't gulaman.
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