Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 3 2018 | Page 62

Just as he was about to give up, to stop walking, to chuck his water vat aside and die
forgotten, merely another victim to the elements, his swollen feet rammed into a blunt
object in the howling darkness. The resulting pain shocked his system, almost waking him
up. Upon focusing up, he saw that he had hit a curb. The road, after careful inspection,
was paved.
Invigorated by this discovery, Zhang erased all negative thoughts from his head. He kept
walking and walking. It seemed like forever. He thought of nothing else; he was too tired
to. Slowly, the rain stopped. The wind ceased. And eventually, the sun rose, its
magnificent rays drying him and giving him energy to press on.
Then, he heard it. Noise flooded his ears. The noise of people, of crowds! Homes of
varying shapes and sizes appeared around him, followed by great crowded marketplaces
and magnificent statues of famous historical figures, some of whom he recognised. It
dawned on him as if the weight of the universe had been lifted from his shoulders: he had
made it . Here was Beijing, in all its glory.
Zhang wiped a cloudy fluid from his eyes in excitement. With his vision now cleared, he
caught a glimpse of the government building, a grandiose structure gleaming in the foggy
distance.
This is it , he thought. His legs got the message first, and he dashed for the steps.