Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction Group 3 - 2017 | Page 128

They spent the whole night in the fields of youth, forgetting everything.
A slight drop of rain came from a cloudless sky, falling, falling, falling and landed on his back.
*
"Come on, don't let go of my hand, you are going to get lost."
He gripped her hands tighter, as they walked through the busy streets of Shanghai with the smell of hot steamed bun
lingering near, the lanterns that hung on the rooftops dimmed.
He clutched the corners of her shirt, afraid to let go. The loneliness suddenly became overwhelming, he remembered
the last summer he had spent with his father six months ago guessing the riddles behind the back of the crimson
patterns and the red circles that decorated the buildings. Suddenly his eyes started brimming with tears, it was
suffocating.
"Where is Daddy?"
"He is fighting for the country, remember?" She reminded in a soft tone. "He is at war."
"Is he a hero?"
His innocent question made her pause, her eyes darkened, she stopped in her tracks. The grey storm that had been
brewing in her eyes stopped too, calming as she said with utmost honesty, with an almost sharp tone.
"I'd rather he be a coward and come back than play a superhero."
He didn't understand, then, the separation. He simply grasped her hands, hoping to at least ease some of her worries.
The lanterns on the buildings dimmed.
*
"You know the Japanese are coming closer to Shanghai, they just defeated the first squad. The soldiers of our
homeland have been defeated." The rumours flew all over Shanghai, cautious whispers and cowering gazes filled the
streets. The lively, festive decorations were taken down, different shops closed, in fear of what was about to come.