Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 4567 | Page 348

“We need to hide,” the orphan warns the woman. She obeys.
But she doesn’t want to go.
At the same time, the boy takes his sister and they run, and run, and run.
And at the crossroads, the woman, the orphan, and the children meet.
As of today, the sky proclaims a cloudless azure, and golden whips of haze touch the stone buildings for the
first time.
All around, soldiers dig their boots into the heads and backs of men and women alike, ending lives with no
remorse.
The woman gazes across the street and immediately breathes, her eyes clear. “Yi-er.”
With her last words, she falls into what her last moments of consciousness believe to be the welcoming arms of
God, leaving an echo of a gunshot behind.