Rachel Javellana

by Rachel Javellana Those were the days of the dusty floors, of the cat and his teeth rotting out, the stare of his expectation, the days of walnut wood and hardwood floors and the dust covering it all, the rug days, the salad days, the scratch scratch scratch and see what sparks days, the days […]

by Rachel Javellana It didn’t help that he had a port wine stain— a birthmark like a drink that had been thrown in his face—which became the way he was identified when his name wasn’t recognized, or immediately after like a surname, shyly spoken now that he was dead, after being absent less than a […]