Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction Group 3 - 2017 | Page 464

The New Tales of Old Shanghai
The Independent Schools Foundation Academy, Dyer, Violet - 11
O
f the seven billion people in the world, the ten million people who lived in Shanghai and the fifty people who happened
to be on the same street on which she was walking, God had apparently chosen her.
Trams are a popular means of transport in Shanghai. The city is crowded with busy people keen to get to some destination and the
trams carry large numbers to destinations relatively quickly on fixed lines. They are safe and it helps to gather everyone on one
vehicle in crowded cities.
Swiftly, they travel day and night. When the stars shine brightly upon the still streets, the only thing to
be seen moving are the trams, silently and safely carrying workers home. No ding dings here. I used to like trams, but not
anymore.
I used to be so interested on why there were lines and strings on the top and bottom, but now it doesn’t really matter. Nothing
really matters. The only reason that I got out of bed every morning was to be happy … with Poppy.
Our Bucket List was so long, the top of the paper nearly reached my bottom eyelashes. There were so many bizarre events to
accomplish. Climb the Great Wall of China, Ride an elephant, swim in a river and I could go on forever and ever. None of the
boxes happened to be ticked though, she just left too soon.
It’s been a week days now, since the accident. I still dream about her every day, the smile she gave me when we were together. The
laugh she expressed when I was grumpy and tired. The support she would give me each and every day. I loved her so much. My
family and poppy’s all gathered in the graveyard and surrounded the grey stone. I popped a little photo of us next to a huge bunch
of flowers, red roses, what she would’ve wanted. We then slowly made it back home after all the little things that everyone said.
We got home.
I quickly dashed up into my bedroom and wrote a letter, that I would place on her grave.