Ayaw maniwala ng mga taga Sitio Toledo na manananggal ang pumutakti sa mga manok ni Mang Dawe.
Nagtaka syang walang tumitilaok sa bakuran nya samantalang pasado alas singko na kaya’t agad syang tumungo sa likod bahay. Tumambad sa kanya ang duguang ulo ng mga alaga. Wala lahat ng katawan.
Iba-iba ang naging reaksyon ng mga kapitbahay nya.
Alam ko. Hindi ako nakakalimot.
Palaging binibilin sa akin ni Nanay, kapag lalabas ako sa kalsada mag-isa, wag daw ako tatanggap ng kendi sa kungsino mang di ko kilala. Pero, paano naman kaya yung mga batang tulad ko na di kailanman nakarinig ng kahit isang bilin? Paano kung tanggapin nila yung kendi?
Gabing gabi na. Hindi na raw maaga para sa mga paslit na gaya ko na pagala-gala pa sa labas ng bahay. Ngunit hindi na makatayo si Nanay sa paglalaba para sa iba buong araw.
Atong’s story
On the way to the Honasan, Atong stopped by the pantalan to see his friends. They lined both sides of the stone pier. The pantalan was completed a few years ago, bringing commerce and tourism to the once sleepy town of Hinundayan. It became a pastime among the boys of the town to pass the time at the pier watching visitors arrive and cargo being loaded and unloaded.
“Have you asked your girlfriend yet to go to the baile with you?” Jerry slapped palms with Atong as he approached.
“No, not yet,” said Atong.
Halos murahin si Eba ng tindera ng kamatis. Muntik na kasing magkandahulog ang mga paninda ng ale nang matabig nya ang bilao dahil sa barubal nyang paglalakad. Walang pake si Eba dahil galit siya.
Tinabig niya palayo ang pulubing dalawang beses kumalabit sa kanya habang nakapila
sa hintayan ng jeep. Pinagtinginan sya ng mga tao. Muli, wala siyang pake dahil galit siya.
To grow up in Iponan, is to learn stubborn resistance. Remember the flood? When Iponan river overflowed and buried the barangay in muddied water? After the state of emergency, when families were permitted to leave the musty covered-courts turned evacuation centers, we saw the water lines that stained the walls of our houses. Families swept mud from their homes and onto the street. People scavenged for their belongings. A corpse was found dangling on the boughs of a tree. I found faded and torn family pictures floating on the canals in front of my house.
Yet, we rebuild. After the flood, I praised my barangay for its resilience. Their assiduous efforts for life to continue as it were. It took months, but any trace of the flood was scrubbed away. I thought it was a blessing. I was eleven years old at the time, and at sixteen, the world went back to normal. Iponan never changed.
Gabriela Baron 
Mitch Balladares 
Cesar Miguel Escaño 
Camille Bagaipo