Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 2020 | Page 108

Fiction – Group 5
found a physical fault to blame for his soft-spokeness and literary aspirations. Maybe this is all
just part of the immortal game to make me become ___ tycoon like all the men in my family.
Mia
It’s been seventy years since the announcement of the Autonomous Region of Cantonesia.
A brand-new era of prosperity! The best of three worlds. Faces from my textbooks told me about
optimism during the early years. It would be the hub of everything from microchips to
shrimp dumplings. Expert predictions of grandeur rolled across the bottom of every news
channel for weeks. Spirits flew light and high like sparrows in the spring wind, as people
poured all their youth and vitality into the mold of dreams. Of course, there were successes.
There were those who moved to glittering penthouses, who hosted golden parties with
holographic dining rooms so that you had entrée in a snowy Milan and dessert under the
Eiffel tower. Cantonesia is an economic miracle that churned out wealth faster than the world
could understand.
Well, the Floaters are un-successes — the collateral damage. No one knows when they
started calling us Floaters, but it’s fitting. Our houses float on the New Causeway Bay, made of
rickety bamboo sticks, wood, mossy Styrofoam, faded buoys, and basically anything that floats.
As the observant reader has surely noticed, we’re not too picky. We float between real life, never
taking up a real job, never owning a real home, filling the crevices of the city. Dotted here and
there like beauty marks, our we only add allure to the glamorous face of Cantoneisa.
Ten years ago, two lines on a white stick scared my dad away. “He never belonged with
us anyway.” I guess I broke the deal: I anchored him to the floaters. He wanted was to be
free- if only one stolen night at a time. So he cut off the ties and drifted away. Sometimes,
I want to drift away too. But I take one look at Andrew and Caden, and that feeling blows
away like dry sand in a typhoon. It doesn’t matter they don’t share the same dad. Actually,
it’s better, like they only contain parts of myself I like. Brave, beautiful Sharon. Not some
cowardly baby in a man’s suit.
Oh look, there Caden is. Arms waving, jumping up and down by on the planks. Andrew
and I yelled his name and waved back.
Shin
The name Mia Dempsey caught Shin’s eye. Maybe it was the wide grin, slightly crooked
teeth, elfish ears and the fiery look in her eyes. Maybe her sun-kissed skin and brown hair
flying in the wind. Floater. 21. National Board College Examination: 791/800. Same as me! It felt
a little like fate. He returned to the smiling receptionist.
“Mia Dempsey, please.” Shin hoped her fearlessness would rub off on him a little.
“Wonderful choice. The process will commence in three days. An attendant will now
lead you to your room. Please make yourself at home.”
Mia
Caden and Andrew tumbled outside on the deck.
Sharon and I sat in the corner of our living room, watching them through the wispy
door curtains.
We can’t afford college for me. I probably flunked my exams – after taking them two
years early to begin working, competing against those elite boarding school kids is like
throwing an egg against a rock anyway. The results come out a few months later, but I’d start
working tomorrow, as a janitor at the nearby hospital. Sharon felt like I should at least wait for
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