J.H. Jamorabo
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jh-jamorabo.bsky.social
J.H. Jamorabo
@jh-jamorabo.bsky.social
62 followers 120 following 82 posts
He/they. Filipino contemporary writer. Still filling my bookshelf. Still finding kapwa—community.
https://medium.com/@jh.jamorabo
https://jhjamorabo.wordpress.com/
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jh-jamorabo.bsky.social
Practice sentences on imagery
They stepped out of boots and into soft carpet. He stepped out of tsinelas and into linoleum hard as the concrete beneath. They slid into the front seat and buckled up. He hunch-walked through the low, crowded jeep and searched for a vacant spot. He squeezed his eyes tight at the faint sounds of clamoring tricycles, of guffawing men. Meanwhile, they sank into a thick, suburban silence, and slept.
April 21, 2025 at 6:39 AM
jh-jamorabo.bsky.social
Rewrite, page 2
Their room glows like gold. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Caleb turns around. Tears glisten Rey’s face. He opens his mouth, but closes it anyway. Caleb opens his arms. Rey slams into him. It’s Caleb who talks about it first. “Did you wait too long?” “You came just in time.” Rey sobs. Caleb strokes the back of his head. One year ago, it was Rey who sobbed first. On a video call, Caleb asked about Rey’s next sketch idea. They would look up couples photos online and Rey would sketch the two of them. It would be their half-thousandth video call, but they had long lost count.
April 10, 2025 at 4:19 AM
jh-jamorabo.bsky.social
Rewrite, page 1
In their sixth-floor hotel room, they turn on the ceiling lights and both set down their luggage. The air-con blows cold air. It’s Caleb who shivers first. “Are you feeling cold?” Rey says, “Are you?” He hurries to the switch. “I can lower it down for you.” “But are you cold?” Rey doesn’t answer. He stiffens when the air-con oscillates his way. Caleb says, “Okay, you can. Thank you.” Rey turns it down. The room warms, but they’re both still close-mouthed. It’s 11:35p.m. Caleb isn’t complaining yet about the long flight, or the cold air. He isn’t complaining about two years of waiting until they could meet. Only after will Rey talk. It’s Caleb who sits on the double bed first. He scoots to make space. Rey hurries to the lamp shade. “Do you sleep with the lamp shade on?” Caleb hesitates. “I do, but what about you?” “I’m okay however way.” He dims the room. With all tasks fulfilled, Rey stands at the bed. The space next to Caleb is still free. He’ll sit once Caleb allows him. Caleb rises. He moves past Rey and opens the curtains slightly. Down below, the city of Pasay glimmers from their window. Late at night the casinos, ferris wheels, and the Mall of Asia itself strains out its brightest lights.
April 10, 2025 at 4:18 AM
jh-jamorabo.bsky.social
Practice lines on word choice
“Don’t presume to interrupt me with senseless reasoning,” the teacher said. “You fail to see that I am right—” the panelist says—“and you are wrong. You are the student.” “You will not have to ask when she has gone mad,” the teacher said. “You will know.”
April 5, 2025 at 5:27 AM
jh-jamorabo.bsky.social
Page 9, last
It’s four o’clock and panes of gold cast over Pasay’s concrete highway. She holds her baby sister’s hand, small and soft. She crosses the street right beside her.
March 13, 2025 at 3:46 AM
jh-jamorabo.bsky.social
Page 8
Their mother became more absent on Beah’s turn growing up. Beah grew up only seeing her ate Trisha’s face on the phone. Lilith always thought there’ll be less to miss that way. Now she rubs her eyes and her vision clears. How can their parents let this happen? Lilith reaches for her phone again. But Beah stares at her. “But can we stay here a little longer? Can we go walking around the mall, please?” Lilith looks into her. She sets the phone down again, farther this time. She nods, startled yet again. At the Mall of Asia, they stroll around stores. They browse at a Daiso store together. Lilith buys Beah a Kuromi plush toy. Beah hugs it and Lilith studies her. This new curiosity surprises her, warm and whole. Maybe she’s more than an ate to Beah. She’s the guardian who sits in PTA meetings and soon, her graduation. She’s the mother who will warn her about the lover boys–or girls–in high school. She’s every space missing in the gaps of the family drawing in Beah’s life. Out on the street, they’re on their way to the bus terminal. But Beah spots a Sanrio cosplayer crossing the pedestrian lane to the convention center. The smoke of passing vehicles drift homeward. The SMX Convention Center still opens to crowds of cosplayers. Beah tugs Lilith’s kimono. “Ate, can we go back again? Just for a little while?” Lilith looks at her. She says, “Okay, but you’re joining me to take pics with cosplayers.” Her sister’s eyes crinkle on the corners. “Okay, Ate.” Maybe, she’s still just Ate.
March 13, 2025 at 3:45 AM
jh-jamorabo.bsky.social
Page 7
“You weren’t at the other booths, but you weren’t with the cosplayers either. You couldn’t be found anywhere!” “Why did you forget me in the restroom?” Lilith backs up, startled. “You said you would wait for me, but then you went back in by yourself!” Chatters of passerby fill up between them. The guard shoots glances at Lilith. Beah squashes the glare and looks away. She hugs her arms around herself. “There were so many crowds… I didn’t know where you…” Lilith looks at Beah. Her face is a clammy mixture of greasy sweat and tears and some snot. She pulls out a handkerchief and pats her clean. Then she pulls her sister close and embraces her. The missing kid posters sharpen in her mind. They become faces of other poor kids who’ve run astray. She grips her sister tighter. She will never leave her behind anymore. She is her ate. At a McDo chain, they’re munching on a burger and fries. Across them is a mother spoon-feeding her little boy. Beah nibbles on her fries while Lilith swipes through her contacts list. Beah asks, “Ate, are you telling Ma?” “Mama needs to know, Beah. Or dad.” “I thought you would be on my side.” She sets her phone down. “I am. But you need a parent. Someone to guide you. I don’t know. Maybe then…” Beah’s eyes sink to her burger. Then they rise and lock at the eating family. The little boy whines for another spoonful. Lilith studies her. Beah grew up swallowing spoonfuls from Lilith. She remembered her tiny hand curling around her finger.
March 13, 2025 at 3:44 AM
jh-jamorabo.bsky.social
Page 6
only watch those DVDs with her ate around. On the case were big-breasted anime girls wielding spears and swords. She checked the rooms. No Trisha. She peered into cabinets and drawers. She circled the yard outside. Still no Trisha. That afternoon, the clouds were a foreign, alien-like green. No plane soared away in goodbye. No warm breeze for a hug. She was just gone. The ate always keeps an eye on the bunso. Everyone always said this to her. Back in the apartment, she scrubbed her uniform and hung it to dry. She boiled water and ate instant Pancit Canton noodles. She stormed into the DVD pile and snatched one and thrust it in the player. The TV’s light radiated over her face, dim and flickering. If there was no ate or parent, doesn’t that leave the only child as the oldest? Doesn’t that make her old enough to watch TV past eight? To buy anime DVDs as much as she wanted to? To never be ordered anything. The dark surrounded her. She looked deeply into the TV. Isn’t it all easier that way anyway? A year later, Beah was born. The same year Lilith got her smartphone. She’d stepped out of DVD shops and into a corner of her mattress to pirate anime series online. Her vision started to blur. … Lilith finds Beah next to a mall guard, red-eyed and snotting. She rushes towards her. “Hoy, Beah! Why did you disappear like that?” Beah doesn’t approach her and rubs her face. A glare glints behind her palm, watery but steady.
March 13, 2025 at 3:43 AM
jh-jamorabo.bsky.social
Page 5
She’s the ate. The older sister. What does that even mean anymore? It’s one thirty now. Through the doors, people go and come from lunch. A Honkai cosplayer. A My Hero Academia cosplayer. A whole new crowd to babble with. Isn’t it less trouble if she never had a sister? She pats her body dry, then her face. But she can’t mask on a smile. Out on the streets, Lilith has always drifted past posters of missing kids. Her eyes mist in tears. The next time she’ll stop and look, what’ll she do if she sees Beah? She heads towards the crowd. She passes them. She leaves the function room. In the hallway, a cloudy, green sky. People chattering all around. She pulls out her phone and swipes through her contacts. Patrisha’s face, grinning and pleased. She dials. No signal. She expected line is busy, at least. Her parents’ heads, blank and anonymous. She dials, and in five seconds, hangs up. She starts moving. She starts asking again. She is the ate. She has to look for her. … One decade ago, the door creaked open to Lilith, still the bunso and in her grade-five uniform. It was dark and empty. Ate Trisha’s flight was booked for next week, and she’d already promised to watch TV with her today. Their father just left to work overseas. Their mother was out somewhere. Earlier she’d ordered her to sleep at eight sharp and
March 13, 2025 at 3:42 AM
jh-jamorabo.bsky.social
Page 4
Cavite—better yet, the Philippines. She’d start her life in a country like Japan. She made plans with her friend Rey to attend an anime convention. She started losing sleep at night shifts at a call center. She outgrew drawing. She bought a sewing machine and planned to stitch up a new future for herself, one she’d wear and get likes and views in. “Mama said I need to go with you,” Beah said. She’d snuck up to Lilith stitching fabric together. “You’re old enough to handle being alone, Beah. You can do whatever you want.” Beah’s eyes sunk, peeking glances. She kicked her feet and stayed. Lilith kept stitching. The machine let out a click-click-click, brittle and thin. Later that day, her friend Rey had a family emergency and backed out of their plan. Their mother kept pestering too. She let Beah scramble alone in her things for an outfit: a Kuromi headband, a mismatching skirt. So it was never her idea to bring her anyway. It was Beah’s choice. Now she asks cosplayers and they apologize. She circles the room. Sweat dampens her armpits, then her face. She hesitates then asks the vendor at a NSFW booth. A passerby frowns at her. She prays she’d just vanish. But then a Kuromi cosplayer appears. She scrambles towards them. “Please, have you seen my sister? She’s cosplaying too, just like you. Same character.” They say, “Sorry, I’m not sure at all, there were a few kids who approached me already. I think all of them were with family, though.” “With family?” she says absently. “Okay. Okay.” She leaves.
March 13, 2025 at 3:41 AM
jh-jamorabo.bsky.social
Page 3
The vendor shakes her head. “Sorry, iha, I haven’t. Where did you last remember seeing her?” Lilith doesn’t say she forgot. She thinks. “She’s probably just wandering around here somewhere… Thank you though.” “All the commotion here can be distracting for them. Make sure you find her, ha?” She approaches another vendor at the nearby plush-toy booth. She describes Beah again. “Has any little girl bought here recently?” He shakes his head and frowns. “You lost your little sister? You should’ve been watching her.” “I was,” she blurts. “Thank you anyway.” She turns and scrambles away from the booths. She glances back. A gap between Hello Kitty sticker sets. A gap between Kuromi plush toys, dim and child-sized. Sometimes her neighbor gossiped about a missing child. She forgets when, but remembers it was more than once. She shakes away the thought. She keeps moving. Beah is her youngest sister. How can she let this happen? But is she really to blame? When Lilith graduated senior high, her mother revealed Trisha had long stopped sending money and their dad couldn’t afford tuition for Lilith’s nursing school. She wouldn’t be able to start a life in Singapore like her big sister. Their rent bills piled on until they moved out. In their new apartment, the sisters still shared a room. Beah taped the same family hut drawing on the wall. One time past midnight, the family slept. In a corner, a vlog of a cosplayer in Tokyo flashed colorful lights over Lilith’s face. Her eyes started to water. She promised herself she’d leave
March 13, 2025 at 3:37 AM
jh-jamorabo.bsky.social
Page 2
mask their frowns while the mother or father tails along. Some keep space from their siblings. Cold sweat dampens her hands. Isn’t Beah old enough to worry for herself? When she was still in high school, in the apartment, they ate and watched anime together. Beah giggled when Lilith covered her eyes on sexual scenes. They washed the dishes and did their homework facing each other. They played and doodled together. But one late Friday night, on the table, Lilith bent close to her sketchbook. For the first time she was outgrowing fan art to brainstorming original character designs. She would create a character that was her own. Beah waited and yawned next to her. “Can you show me how to draw Ate Trisha’s hair? Or maybe Daddy’s?” Lilith glanced at the doodle. A nipa hut and sunny hills behind stick figures of Lilith and Beah holding hands. Far out were their parents and big sister, heads still bald. The family was way past arm’s reach. All of them smiled. “It’s your drawing. Just use your imagination.” Lilith turned back to her sketchbook, slightly guilty. The strokes of her sketch blurred under her hand. Later on, Beah got back to doodling by herself. The doodle was taped on the wall of the room they shared. Beah entertained herself just fine before. But now she doubts this thought. The ate always keeps an eye on the bunso. She approaches a vendor at the sticker booth. She describes Beah: a short-haired, slim-eyed girl with a devil tail and rabbit ears. Cosplaying as Sanrio’s Kuromi. “Have you seen someone around here like her?”
March 13, 2025 at 3:37 AM
jh-jamorabo.bsky.social
Page 1
Lilith’s little sister isn’t back yet. At twelve o’clock, in the function room, Lilith is in a kimono as Genshin’s Chiori asking another Genshin cosplayer for a picture. The bystander takes the shot when she strikes a pose. The cosplayer compliments her poses. They exchange Instagram accounts. She asks a Chainsaw Man cosplayer for a picture. They babble over the anime and the cosplayer praises her trivia knowledge. Downlights brighten every spot and corner. Many cosplayers are saturated and distinct in bare-chested armor plates and Japanese-school uniforms and frilly skirts. It’s a packed crowd of anime fans alike. It’s a crowd she could forget anything to be in. At twelve thirty, she’s starting to glance around for Beah. She rubs her eyes, baggy behind makeup. Last night, she’d binge-watched a whole series. She wanders around and counts the number of anime she recognizes. Non-cosplayers praise her kimono. She brags she sewed it herself. She peeks at a glossy poster at the NSFW booth. She’s smiling for another shot. At one o’clock, she’s not smiling anymore. Still no Beah. … At one fifteen, she’s noticing something. Many cosplayers come with friends and peers. But some come with family. Some
March 13, 2025 at 3:33 AM
jh-jamorabo.bsky.social
Gaps in Beah's Drawing, a short story in a thread:
Title: Gaps in Beah's Drawings. Subtitle: February 2025.
March 13, 2025 at 3:31 AM
jh-jamorabo.bsky.social
Practice paragraphs on structure, opening scenes
February 3, 2025 at 6:25 AM
jh-jamorabo.bsky.social
Practice sentences on word choice, Filipino food
January 28, 2025 at 5:58 AM
jh-jamorabo.bsky.social
January 26, 2025 at 5:07 PM
jh-jamorabo.bsky.social
Nasa AFAM nga ang true love 🙂‍↕️
January 5, 2025 at 5:08 PM
jh-jamorabo.bsky.social
A scene compressed to a few paragraphs of an LDR short story, in Pasay.
January 1, 2025 at 3:02 AM
jh-jamorabo.bsky.social
An excerpt of the first page from an old story idea I abandoned. Who doesn’t miss high school?
December 25, 2024 at 4:31 AM
jh-jamorabo.bsky.social
A short dialogue from an abandoned draft with a Filipina transwoman as the main character
December 15, 2024 at 10:28 PM