The Inconsolable Distance of an Early Life - By Chris Dino Belacho

Written By: Chris Dino Belacho

Category: Short Story

Competition: Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026

In "The Inconsolable Distance of an Early Life," Chris Dino Belacho presents a poignant narrative that delves into the themes of youth and uncertainty. Featured in the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026, this short story captures the essence of introspection and the bonds of friendship during a formative period in life. With a backdrop of career decisions and personal exploration, Belacho's work invites readers to reflect on the often tumultuous transition into adulthood.

About the Work

Chris Dino Belacho's story is a masterful blend of introspective narrative and vivid imagery. The mood swings between nostalgia and a sense of longing, capturing the uncertainty of early life decisions. Through a series of poignant vignettes, the author explores the deep connections between friends and the shared experiences that shape our identities. This work invites readers to immerse themselves in the atmospheric setting and emotional depth of a pivotal time in the protagonist's life.

The Inconsolable Distance of an Early Life

Original Submission by Chris Dino Belacho

The Inconsolable Distance of an Early Life

by Chris Dino Belacho

It was career week, and most of the companies around town visited our school to talk about industry choices while scouting potential seniors running for honors. Everybody wanted to be someone and seemed so sure of which path to choose. At first, I didn’t understand what I was feeling, but it made me uneasy-ashamed of my indecision and lack of preference.

Over coffee that afternoon, I was in my usual quiet state, walking past the walls of Intramuros. The smell of moist grass complemented the setting sun in the west. The Styrofoam cup I was holding had bite marks on it; I hadn’t realized I had been gnawing at its defenseless brim.

I confided my dilemma to the friend I was with, but she wasn’t in a hurry to offer any answers. She just sat there by the wide windows of the convenience store we had wandered into, listening intently, as if I were a puzzle to solve. I waited for a quirky punchline to shrug off my rambling, but instead, she pursed her lips, pointed a finger at my forehead, and said she wasn’t worried about me at all-that I should try to see what she was seeing. From then on, I decided that I loved convenience stores and wanted to kiss her on the mouth occasionally.

From then on, we were buddies for life. There was nothing in the world that could separate us. I took her to places I thought she should try, and in the weeks that followed, we spent our nights-and the little money we had-on second-hand records and inexpensive chocolate bars, listening to unearthed B-sides while smoking cigarettes. While it lasted, it felt endless. I liked the classics; she burrowed into punk rock. She always had good taste in music, and I admired her for it. She thought I was over- sentimental, too sad, and would often joke that I should seek professional help.

One time, we crashed a party, pretending we were distant cousins, just to see how the other kids in the subdivision had fun. We drove around town in her brother’s stolen car, talking about how terrible it all was-though we would eventually admit that we envied them. We laughed, we pretended, but we both knew we could only go so far-that we would eventually run out of roads.

She always insisted on taking the wheel, driving us around with no destination in mind, ending our nights by the sea, drinking by the fire-the nights were colder then, but we always had something to warm us.

Sometimes, when we were low on gas money, we would walk down by the creek if there was enough moonlight and sit on the low walls of the golf course. We were juveniles, and those blue summer nights were ours. Had we held them close enough, they might have burst, and we would have exploded along with them-losing form, dissolving into something invisible, roaming freely in the air. We would have been in different places at once, scattered versions of ourselves, multiplied, living simultaneous lives. We wouldn’t have had to worry about being overwhelmed-we would have been shapeless.

I sometimes find myself caught, looking pensively at the dusk in a dry tropical afternoon, listening intently to the singing wind. And though I have tried so hard to reconcile-to summon even the faintest memory-I have not quite managed it. I am made of chapters torn from a paperback: dog-eared, spine broken, worn down. Still, I remember her drinking from a paper cup, her lips still warm from a quiet drag of a cigarette, her soul escaping little by little in a thin stream of smoke. Her skin, to me, was a map - railways along her cheeks for tears and smile lines, deepened by heartache.

In moments like this, she would tell me to listen-just listen, for there is nothing left to do but wait for the playing of a well- chosen soundtrack that could rescue.

About the Competition

The Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026 by Hashtag Kalakar is a prestigious event celebrating the art of words. It brings together talented writers from around the globe, showcasing their unique voices and imaginative stories. The competition is a platform for both emerging and established writers to share their work with a broad audience, fostering a vibrant community of creative expression.

We extend our heartfelt thanks to Chris Dino Belacho for sharing "The Inconsolable Distance of an Early Life" with us. This evocative short story is a valuable contribution to the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026. We appreciate the opportunity to experience your introspective journey and the vivid world you've crafted.

About Hashtag Kalakar

Hashtag Kalakar is a creative platform dedicated to providing artists, writers, singers and other creative talents with opportunities to showcase their work and reach wider audiences through competitions, features and creative initiatives.