Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 2020complete | Page 655

Future Adventures of The Greater Bay Area
Yew Chung International School Secondary, Vidal Cano, Carmen - 16
A Night Market in Kantoasia,
七夕节
The sun was settling down, her gentle rays caressing the cities skyscrapers in a hue of flaxen gold.
The modern architecture was now drawn in a haze of lemon yellow, dashes of orange and exploding shades
of red. It was 7’o clock, the day had finally spiralled into night, specks of white were now embroidered into
the darkness, clinging onto the pristine navy blue backdrop. These crystallized, silver fragments now formed
a thin veil that married the night, like a newlywed couple now pronounced husband and wife.
Down below a night market stood in celebration, drowned in exhilarated laughter and excitement
that echoed throughout the clambering city. The swarming streets were illuminated by signs reading
restaurant titles, catchphrases and iconic Chinese characters dressed in flashing lights and flamboyant colours
- attempting to catch the attention of those passing by and hopefully a few wandering tourists. Stalls were
standing parallel to one another, their goods uniformed and exhibited in a way to appeal to the interests of
potential consumers. There were a variety of products that had been put on display, ranging from old
antiques to ‘made in china’ souvenirs - their cheap labels concealed in a lash of paint or hidden from view.
The fragrance of spices and unique tastes diffused through the streets as local cuisines were infused with the
hovering breeze. The breath of wind carried the raw flavours of Shao Mai, the smell of fried crisp vegetables
and the sweet aroma of egg puffs, all savoured in a single gulp of air, gently teasing the hunger of those
passing by.
Individuals loitered around the market, their ethnicity displayed by the colour of their skin and
their social background manifested through the clothes they wore. The small restaurants had been annexed
by a group of big, blonde looking tourists, who stood equipped with their machines, snapping pictures at
any foreign-looking artefact or monument. They captured each moment in a flash and a roll of film, their
barren memories trapped in their tiny screens. Their mouths were underlined in crumbs and their cheeks
were smeared in a gloopy white goe - an attempt to mask the red pigment that had been building on their
bleached skin. The sun had left their cheeks burned with blisters, like an old grandma who had drowned her
grandchildren in kisses, leaving smudges of red lipstick.
The streets grew became narrower and more overgrown, the chaotic ambience drowned out into
the darkness as the lights grew dim and small. Eventually, the path led to an opening of soft sand and
pebbles, seized by a shallow hue of turquoise that devoured the coastline in rage - a body of saltwater that
drowned the soil in an endless chain of tears. The raging waters had managed to mobilize themselves onto
the coastline, declaring themselves as conquerors over the vulnerable creatures that sought sanctuary within
the thin layer of sand. There were a few people who stood courageously against the army of billowing waves
admiring the view - their dry clean shoes seconds from being eaten by the ravenous waves.
A few miles away an island was floating in the water, her skyscrapers standing silhouetted against
the sky as its polished surface tearing into the blackness. Their modern lights degrading the natural
luminescence displayed by the moon. An arched bridge creased the sea, connecting the two islands in metal
cables and pillars of steel. These two islands stood aligned to one another, hand in hand, forming an
unbreakable bond. Their alliance strengthened by a provision of financial support, a formulated agreement, a
single goal and a dream of prosperity.