This is the blog of Ian Rosales Casocot. Filipino writer. Sometime academic. Former backpacker. Twink bait. Hamster lover.
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The Boy The Girl
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Republic of Carnage
Three Horror Stories
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Ateneo de Naga University Press, 2018
Don't Tell Anyone:
With Shakira Andrea Sison
Pride Press / Anvil Publishing, 2017
Cupful of Anger,
Bottle Full of Smoke:
The Stories of
Jose V. Montebon Jr.
Silliman Writers Series, 2017
First Sight of Snow
and Other Stories
Encounters Chapbook Series
Et Al Books, 2014
Celebration: An Anthology to Commemorate the 50th Anniversary of the Silliman University National Writers Workshop
Sands and Coral, 2011-2013
Silliman University, 2013
Handulantaw: Celebrating 50 Years of Culture and the Arts in Silliman
Tao Foundation and Silliman University Cultural Affairs Committee, 2013
Inday Goes About Her Day
Locsin Books, 2012
Beautiful Accidents: Stories
University of the Philippines Press, 2011
Heartbreak & Magic: Stories of Fantasy and Horror
Old Movies and Other Stories
National Commission for Culture
and the Arts, 2006
FutureShock Prose: An Anthology of Young Writers and New Literatures
Sands and Coral, 2003
Nominated for Best Anthology
2004 National Book Awards
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IAN ROSALES CASOCOT
Saturday, November 29, 2008
1:25 PM |
Mother, After the Fall
My best friend rushed me to the hospital the other week in the middle of a dinner party after I got a frantic-sounding text message from my cousin: my mother was in the emergency room of the university hospital. "There was an accident," the message read. Those dreaded words you always hope you will never get -- but there they were, as clear as the backlight of my cellphone. We rushed.
She looked ravaged, but seemed all right. There were bruises on her face. She was lying on a gurney, ready to be taken to her private room. "What happened?" I asked my older brothers.
"She was going around the city with Dory," Rocky said. "They were carrying baskets of fruit. They were going down the steps -- and she missed one. She fell hard."
Mother is old. Anybody knows that any sort of falling is dangerous for old women. Her hips! "What did the doctor say?" I asked.
"She's had her x-ray. We're keeping her here overnight, for observation," he said.
But mother was suddenly in high spirits. For a bruised woman, she looked suddenly fine. She was all about telling us what happened to her -- but could not exactly remember the details. "All I remember was, there was blood on my face," she said. "And people were looking at me."
"Why'd you have to go around carrying baskets of fruits?"
"I was bored. I wanted grapes."
I looked down the floor, and saw her footwear. "Ma, why are you wearing high heels?"
"I hate flats. I can't walk in them."
Mother, 76 years old, refuses to give up her high heels. At her age!
She's fine now. The other day, she saw Quantum of Solace
with my cousin -- and hated it. "Why were they fighting over water?" she said, and then wistfully: "I loved Sean Connery. There was no one like Sean Connery. This new guy is ugly."
Labels: family, life
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