Author Archives: Rochelle Ann Molina

About Rochelle Ann Molina

Rochelle Ann T. Molina is a writer who hails from Catanduanes, Philippines. She graduated Cum Laude from University of the Philippines Los Baños with a degree in BA Communication Arts Major in Writing. She became a fellow for Poetry during the Palihang Rogelio Sicat 2019. She was a panelist for Bikol Literature during the Taboan Writers Festival 2019. Her works have appeared in Philippines Graphic, The Manila Times- The Sunday Times Magazine, Peculiars Magazine, and Reclaim: An Anthology of Women’s Poetry, among others.

The Ticket

Boys grow up to be men. And it’s men who cause all the trouble. They’re the ones who shed the blood and poison the earth.” – Stephen King, Sleeping Beauties

ONE SUNDAY MORNING, the world woke up without women. No man really knew what happened. Were they abducted by aliens? Were they all kidnapped by a mogul? A male news anchor on TV screamed, “We’re happy the transgenders and intersex who are biological glitches are gone but where the hell did our wives go?” News on the Internet kept announcing reward money from Caucasian men for any one with leads as to where their wives and children have gone. Even the male presidents and prime ministers did not know where their wives went or where they have taken their children. One Sunday morning, the world woke up without women. Of course, wherever the women go, the children go with them. 

As to Rolando Magsaysay, a Filipino with a sound mind and body at age of 35 years old, his world suddenly become at a standstill. He woke up expecting her wife and children at the dining table waiting for him to join their breakfast. Instead, he found the house empty. There was no laughter and heavy steps from their seven-year old daughter Charo and his three- year old son Gabrielle. There was no kitchen smelling like pancakes and coffee. There was no one but him. 

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Night Walkers

To appease the women, 
the government decided 
all men should stay at home at night. 

Nights are for sisterhood. 
Nights are for our bar hopping, 
tequila after tequila – shot after shot
until we forget the whole world. 
Nights are for us, child-bearing people
who forget ourselves just to please all. 
Nights are for all the hobbies we missed: 
book after book, painting after painting, 
film after film. 
Nights are for us, daughters of the moon. 

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