Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 4567 | Page 367

He shouldn’t be back. He can’t be back. Even after all that mess? I was too in shock to hear what
the voice said, but the echoing of footsteps was enough words. Eyes widened, I scrambled off my chair
and picked it up, hoping to jam the door with it, but maneuvering around a tiny city while carrying a
chair was seriously hindering my efficiency, and I tried my best to be hasty yet careful as I heard the
footsteps slowly approach my study.
***
“You know, you really shouldn’t leave your key under the mat like they do in cartoons,” I called out
to the empty living room before me. I briefly inspected my surroundings, although I wouldn’t be
surprised if everywhere but his study has been covered in layers of dust by now. I glanced towards the
trashcan, seeing how overfilled it was. The rubbish stacked so high in such peculiar ways that a Jenga
tower would be jealous of it. I sighed, thinking about how I’m the one who has to bundle it up and
throw it out for him. I should get this over with, I thought. Ignoring how much of a wreck the rest of
the apartment was, I went straight towards his study.
I stood in front of the study door, the thing he uses to lock himself from the rest of the world. I try
the handle and, to my surprise, the door swings right open, accompanied with nervous footsteps and
small shrieks. The sight that greets me was odd, to say the least. There he was, standing behind the door
cradling a chair in his arms. I suppose he was trying to bar the door, but couldn’t he just use the lock?
Or was he too panicked to even realize?
You’d think his study would be in tip-top condition considering how much he cared for his
collection, but everything was a cluttered mess. Scraps of paper and maps seemed to be tossed around,
and figures and sculptures were placed randomly, some right at the edge of shelves that were in danger
of falling off. What truly surprised me was a mini ancient-styled city on the floor, complete with walls
and proud gates barricading it. He wasn’t an expert at sculpting, but he managed to make the walls and
buildings quite detailed, which most likely took up way too much of his time. Not that he had
anything else to do, anyways.
“Well, it’s been a while,” I commented, still taking in the view of the study. He muttered gibberish
as he slowly tiptoed around the city to put back his chair, which was pretty obvious he was trying to
stall the inevitable conversation as much as he could. I sighed as I waited for him to put it back, and
he made his way over the other end of the room after, with the jaded expression printed on his face
every time I tried to talk to him.
“I know it’s hard for you, but you can’t keep on going this-”
“You said you wouldn’t come back.”
He turned towards the wall, reading the maps he stuck up on it, purposely facing his back towards
me, avoiding eye contact. His words caught me off guard; I honestly didn’t expect him to say anything,
all he’d ever done was sit there quietly until I left. I realized it had been months since I’d last heard his
voice, or saw him smile, or laugh, for that matter.