Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 2020complete | Page 596

room. This was Mendez’s last day on Earth, and he would have liked to celebrate it properly with his family.
As Mendez remembered it however, that never came to be. He left in quite the hurry.
Mendez entered the dusty elevator, gazing outside the window as he descended closer and closer to
the ground. Mendez passed this sight everyday, but today he would take it in, as he did the first time.
Mendez ran through the lobby, his equipment in his flimsy hazard bag. He dashed out into the
streets, following the trail of yellow platforms that was littered with dust, following an automated path he
had walked so many times before. His yellow hazard bag flung in the wind, it’s mediocre material nearly
failing Mendez and spilling its contents onto the jagged concrete. Even so, Mendez carried on running. He
passed the broken down shack that used to be his aunt’s noodle shop. Many childhood memories were
created here, all that which have become dust in the wind. The industrialisation of Macau had transformed a
menagerie of cultures into a strange melting pot of concrete jungle and decrepit architecture. The feudal
architecture Mendez knew so well had all but gone, with the gold lining the casinos fading into rubble, only
a shadow of its former glory. New faces seemed to move about, a much more varied scene as opposed to
simply the Chinese businessmen or smugglers who were seeking to make a buck, or temporary asylum. All
those memories have been forgotten by time, and Mendez seemed to be the last relic of the golden age.
Mendez continued on running, and at the end of the memory tunnel, he saw the building he was
looking for. Hurriedly shuffling along a rugged milk-powered carrying man, Mendez halted in front of the
building. Standing out from the aftermath of an industrial hellhole, sharp, cybernetic edges rounded the
building. Faint-blue LED lights winked on and off a light tower amidst the chaos of the sea’s infinite
depths. Mendez fought against the waves of unconsciousness as the building drew near. Strong-black,
majestic in its overpowering sense. The culmination of all of Humanity’s collaborative efforts - the creation
of the ultimate beacon of hope.
As he finally arrived at the doorstep, the logo above his head read ‘Oliver’. As Mendez crossed the border
between reality and delusion, a faint silhouette of a canine came out to meet him. Mendez ran, and hugged
his beloved companion. This was it. This was Mendez’s most treasured memory.
The last thing Mendez saw was the glowing light emanating from his dog. Mendez had finally reached
paradise, and he knew this was made in heaven.