Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 1-2 | Page 227

An hour later, we arrived there.
My nose caught the faint smells of the city. New Mumbai. As I sauntered down a broad avenue, I watched
the millions of E-cars swerving around, barely missing each other. I stared, dumbstruck, at the sky-scrapers
that seemed never-ending. I gazed at the first blue sky I had ever seen. My parents would have loved to see
that. Sadly, they had died in the fourth pacific wars over the Shikaku and Wushi oil fields, years ago. There
was no coming back from the dead for them.
"Xuanzhang?" A voice cried out.
"Mom?" I said, astonished.