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1. Binhi ng ...Katutubong .....Lahi
"Seed of the Primitive Race" (unfinished Novel)
Note: This article is copyrighted.
This is a story of four friends who braved the dangers of a mysterious woods somewhere South of the
Read preview in tagalog)
2. The Flight to
.......187th Floor
(Short Story, Copyrighted)
Old Mr. Dodgie is new to the big city. And entering a tall and strange building proved to be a
gigantic step for him. Not just a huge step though, but rather a flight to heaven... Or down through the gate of darkness?
The 187th Floor poses some great mystery. Nobody seemed to know whether it exist in the Moon Tower building, as it was only a supposed 150 storey structure. Crazy? But old and innocent Mr. Dodgie soon discover it's existence and takes him to one-of-a-kind travel in different time dimensions. To his amazement, everything that he is yearning for is there - his childhood memories and his dreams. Could it only be his imagination driving him nuts, or is this a solution to all his longings for a good life? Is the 187th Floor for real or a dead end entrapping and engulfing him nearer to his doom? A spell binding mystery with a touch of humor, caters to most young adults.... The Flight to 187th Floor.
Read Preview. 3. Deadlock
Drive
(Soon to be reviewed, short story)
Published Work: *Reagan Times
Community Newspaper
As the Editorial Consultant and Lay-out Artist of this newspaper, I am presenting this to my website. Please view the pages. I have two articles in Up Close and Personal column and has written an editorial at the Editorial Page.
Reagan Times is a community newspaper of Reagan Street, Cuesta Verde Village, Antipolo City.
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| The Flight to 187th Floor by; Manny de Guzman, Jr. | The Flight to 187th Floor (Dear Readers and Publisher: This material is copyrighted. If
you want the full context of this short story, please contact me at the addresses and numbers provided in my Homepage.)
(excerpt from the story)
“No, I’ll get it,” Mr. Dodgie smiled. “I’m not that old. Don’t worry, I’ll find my way. It’ll just take a few minutes. I promise.”
“Okay,” the man replied. “But please hurry, and be careful up there.”
Mr. Dodgie rushed in at the waiting elevator.
“By the way Sir,” the security officer called. “Which floor are you going into?”
“187th floor,” Mr. Dodgie yelled back and pushed the close button.
“But sir,” The man ran towards the elevator. “There is—“
But the door were already closed and the elevator begin to ascend.
Mr. Dodgie pressed “1”, “8”, and “7” simultaneously but received an error message. He pressed once more but to no avail. By the third time however, it accepted the numbers. But there's no indication on the display panel, just a blinking cursor.
“Something’s wrong in this piece of damn thing,” he whispered. “This works fine earlier. God why now? I really need to go to the 187th floor.”
Some five minutes passed and finally the door opened. He went out. It was coal dark outside.
“Where the hell am I?” he whispered to himself. “This is not the 187th floor.”
Indeed it was not his destination. As soon as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he noticed that the floor he landed on seemed to be a huge stock room of some sort, with broken old furnitures, antique statues, and mere junk. There were piles of old books and newspapers scattered everywhere.
He shoved the cobwebs and sat in a dusty wooden chair. The room was filled with funky stench of mice, roaches and rotting wood.
The only light that fills the room were coming from the moon casting its rays across a large dilapidated window pane.
He glanced at a bust, the one that is lying beside him. “Plato,” the marker indicates. He looked around. There were several other statues, some of which he recognized easily without looking at the plates: Socrates, Homer, The Thinker, Florence, and some other Greek characters. On the other end of the room were busts of great Asian Heroes and replicas of Chinese Buddhas. On the walls were portraits of great American writers and heroes. Another corner hung a huge painting by Boticelli, ‘The birth of Venus’ and a replica of Da Vinci’s ‘Ornithopter’.
Just across the busts were remnants of several bombs and other artilleries used by the Japanese during World War II.
It seems that the place were some kind of an abandoned museum. Mr. Dodgie find it
strange that he landed right on this very floor. For him, this is where time stops ticking and rewinds itself. Has this been an answer to what he wished for earlier, to bring back time and mend his old ways?
As if a reply, his eyes focused on something very familiar. He picked up a book.
“W-Why,” He gasped. “This is my diary…”
He flicked a few pages. “How in the hell, it gotten here?”
The pages have faded through the years, but still some words were readable. He remembered how nice he could write long ago. But now, he can only manage a few thumbmarks as his hands were trembling a lot.
He closed the book and searched for other things on the table. There was his carved wooden soldier, the first toy his mother gave him in his childhood. Then there’s the watch given to him by his father during his 13th birthday. And the locket he values so much. In it was a picture of his grandmother, young and pretty in her teens.
“Your Grandma’s a hero in her own way,” He remembered his mom saying, noting how she saved her drowning sister.
There on the table was his birthstone embedded on a ring. This was given to him by his childhood sweetheart, long before he married Lizbeth, his wife. He clearly recalls how he vowed to protect the priceless gift. He remembered how a group of boys ganged him and snatched the ring from him. It has long been gone, but now it’s here in this very room, dusty though and fusty.
A quartz crystal flickered perfectly still on the table. He clearly recalls how he grabbed the thing during their high school field trip in a quarry in his hometown.
A tear rolled down his eyes. The place was full of his precious memories. He took a glance once more at the valuables and found out that the table itself containing all his mementos was his own working table during his college years. All the things in the past were here right before his very eyes!
“H-How in the world these things had gotten in here?” Mr. Dodgie wondered. “And who’s responsible for all of these?”
For the full context of the story, please email me here:
mannydeguzmanjrartist@yahoo.com
or you can contact me at the address and phone numbers provided in my Homepage.
***** Next preview: Deadlock Drive
(Soon to be previewed, short story)
Previous: Binhi ng Katutubong Lahi
"Seed of the Primitive Race" (unfinished Novel, copyrighted)
This is a story of four friends who braved the dangers of a mysterious woods somewhere South of the Philippines for a college research project. They were expecting a bunch of ghosts, unearthly creatures and paranormal activites. But what they faced instead is a vicious tribe. Three of them would narrowly escape, one will be kept captive. Eight years of painstaking rescue, they would soon discover that their captive friend became the leader of the tribe, and has somehow civilized the once nomads nature of 'Pulong-Pulong' tribe. But Dentor a.k.a. 'Apo Serang' has lost all his previous memory, and this poses great danger to the rescuers. The real twist has yet to come as a war triggered by greed for power and revenge will claim the life of our hero. In the end, justice will prevail. The throne will be succeded by a baby boy, Apo Serang's son, the seed of the primitive race... 'Binhi ng Katutubong Lahi'.
Read the preview pages (in tagalog)
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