?by Sonia B. SyGaco
The neighbors curled beneath their blankets, waited until the rhythm of anger from the flashing lights and thunder?s cursing abated, heard the first cry of an infant. The husband, an albularyo (folk healer) must have cut the umbilical cord and tied it into a knot. The wife exhausted from such strenuous labor, eyes now closed. The day had been unkind to her, the unbearable pain, brim of death. The linen soiled with sweat and blood. With the neonate in his arms, he knew exactly the distinct features, the commonality. Again, he looked at the daughter who gave life for the fifth time.
Obsessed with mirrors, labyrinth, and hour glass, Sonia B. SyGaco loves weaving phenomenal events. She holds an M.A. in Creative Writing from Silliman University in the Philippines.