Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 2020 | Page 91
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2020
moment, losing myself to the beautiful melody and rhythm, forgetting all else, including my
own existence. Once I was back to reality, from my glimpse into the spiritual world, I would
feel rejuvenated, energised.
At that moment, all talking, shuffling and whispering stopped; silence. We were trapped
in a pocket of time. My voice quivered as I began reading my paper…
***
Freedom. What does it actually mean? Freedom could be like capturing a snake. The
snake sheds its skin to leave us in the relic of its trickery as a souvenir of our desire. Or is
freedom like the wind? We don’t know it exists until we see its impact on other things, like
the swaying of the tree, the ripples in water, paper plates flying away, hair blowing. Is it like
a muscle? Something we must exercise in order to develop and keep healthy, a blessing but
also a burden. Or is freedom like the fresh air we breathe, or the clean water we drink. We
don’t realise it’s there until someone takes it from us. Whatever it may be, it is something that
is valued by most communities as something very important. For example, one of the slabs
that lies outside the box, linked by a thin piece of string, has enjoyed its hard-earned freedom
having been by itself with only a small connection to the main box. But would the plan now
take that away? I had many doubts, as to whether the plan would be able to preserve the
uniqueness of the slab, whilst allowing it to grow and develop.
***
I was back in the comfort of my room. But this time, I wasn’t nervous anymore. I had
finally played my part. I had informed the council on how the plan had many gaps that
needed to be filled, like cavities on people’s teeth. Without filling them, the whole product
would not be able to function. Whether they would listen to me or not, was up to them, but I
had at least made them aware of the situation and the complications. I sat back in my chair.
***
There are two types of stories. The ones with happy endings, and the ones without. We
often read the books with happy endings, afraid that the latter will be disheartening; we may
not ‘enjoy’ them. But really, we are only too scared to open them because of the fear of being
wrong. We are scared that we may discover that everything we thought was wrong, or that
we would never be able to fulfill our dreams and desires. But it is only when we open those
books that we understand the reality of our world, because believing in fantasies will never
work in our favour. It is only when we understand how the real world works, that we can
truly do something to change it.
***
For once, I was satisfied.
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