
M.G. Maderazo
Bio
M.G. Maderazo is a Filipino science fiction and fantasy writer. He's also a poet. He authored three fiction books.
Stories (67)
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The Pious Parrot
There was a bald clergyman who regularly went to Santo Niño village every Sunday to celebrate a mass. The villagers respected him in all aspects. Due to overwhelming respect, no one from them could ever utter the word ‘bald’ though the clergyman would not think of it as an insult if somebody would say it.
By M.G. Maderazo4 years ago in Fiction
Timeless Love
I felt anxious about knocking at the door. The same door I left closed more than four decades ago. The luster of its surface had melted away and some flower engravings had been chipped off. I was not sure who would open it and neither sure if I’d be able to recognize them or they’d be able to recognize me.
By M.G. Maderazo4 years ago in Fiction
The Soothing
“He’s not dead,” the albularyo said, taking the almost-finished cigarette away from his mouth. “The body in the coffin is not him. It’s a banana trunk.” His eyes flashed through the smoke wafting across the young woman’s face. “You are having a vigil for a banana trunk, not for a dead body.” He glanced at the window and smirked. “His sister came to me last week asking to cure him.” He puffed one last time, flicked the cigarette butt outside the window, and struck her with a sharp stare. “Look, miss, the vigil is nonsense. You bury it tomorrow.”
By M.G. Maderazo4 years ago in Fiction
The Drunkard
After the joyous banquet, the night sky had seemed like the perfect place to rejuvenate. Shining stars spread in the heavens, some glistened sporadically, others shone steadily, while a few shot across the sphere and vanished uncaught by the naked eye. Some nocturnal creatures, bats or owls, swiftly darted overhead. The moon, glowing aloft the cloudless, shone as no other heavenly body could. Its standing ovation lit the lively village of Cansa, where a wedding reception had just taken place.
By M.G. Maderazo4 years ago in Fiction
The Beggar
The heavy traffic swelling along EDSA stirred up the beggar beneath the flight of the Malibay overpass. Yawning, he stretched up. He checked his belongings, a tattered backpack and a striped-blue plastic bag containing empty plastic bottles of mineral water, energy drinks, and soft drink cans. They were there beside him. No one would ever touch things owned by a fellow as soiled as the beggar except another beggar like him.
By M.G. Maderazo4 years ago in Fiction






