Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction Group 3 | Page 86

Ming Treasure Voyages
Harrow International School Hong Kong, Wei, Edward - 14
It was a dreamy sea. The lapping waves gurgled, gushed, hummed as it forges its own sounds and kindles
its own symphony. Like a steady, throbbing heartbeat. A rhythmic pulse that is unmatched by any other part
of nature. The song of the sea was rarely acknowledged. Afterall it wasn’t played very often and even so -
many had to strain their ears just to get an impression of the metronomic, mesmerizing tune.
On the perch of a fishing boat, stood a withered, elderly man, leaning on the side of a crusty iron fence
bordering the edge. He laminated himself in the mosaic of waning colours from the sunken, ethereal sun
and tasted the saline tang of the ocean breeze. His eyes kept squared at the horizon where such rich and
varied-great wings of gold and yellow and rose-boundless masses of crimson and purple and pink and
scarlet above melds into the molten, shimmering, ghostly blanket of silver beneath. He muttered under his
breath. Dousing himself in the palpitating pulse of the pelagic melody.
The sun sunk deeper into the place where sea and sky met and was lost from sight. Soon, it would be
time for the ship to head back to harbour. The old man sighed as he inclined his head and just as he was
about to turn around. He frowned. The tune seemed … off . It was like a single instrument in an orchestra
playing an entirely different song to the rest. Minute and virtually undetectable, but the error was
undeniably there.
Suddenly, a malicious intent seeped into the sky. An intent full of bloodlust. A killing intent. The echo of
a raspy, rumbling roar came upon everyone onboard the ship. The waves were sloshing, slurping and
slobbering. It pummelled against the ship, slamming into it before releasing. The wave quickly retracted,
only to pounce back. The cycle continued; wave after wave, tide after tide. Burgeoning in size with each
cycle. It foamed and frothed; crashed and bashed; lathered and lacerated. Until finally, the sea plunged down
hard and the tiny ship was ripped apart.
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The crowd was a life of its own, filled to the brim with a myriad of vibrant colours as people flowed in
and out like a river; never stopping for any obstacle, only swerving around them. The harbour was built
nearly entirely out of stone bricks, including the houses. Voices melded into the sky as sellers advertised their
products. A small cat leapt out of sight. A few hundred years ago, this probably would’ve been considered
beautiful, however the wind and rain have battered away, until its allure can only be admired from paintings
of the past. I glanced at the sky. Under this amount of people, countless even on a photograph, its vastness
gave me the motivation to push down the claustrophobia grasping at my heart and continue on.
I took a right turn into a narrow alley, untangling myself from the ball of human yarn. Taking long
strides, I hastily stepped away from the crowd, only slowing down when the shouts softened to whispers. By
then, I had already reached the seaside.
The coastline had no beaches. The stone slabs of the harbour directly met with water, sometimes with a
small stony scree. The sea was a cerulean-blue gown, glistening like a mirror. It gleamed with a luster of
colours - azure-blue, minty-green, amber , creamy-yellow… Ghostly reflections of boats and buildings
waltzed in the expanse, distorted by slight oscillations created by the splish-splashing of cruising ships.
Beyond the crystalline sea stood towering mountains and beyond the mountains lays the vast aurora of the
first blush of dawn.
I walked along the border of the harbour. Slower this time. Admiring the eden beauty of nature around
me. My eyes were set at the line of nickel-silver that was the horizon, as I witnessed the marriage between
sea and sound. If words could flow, then no doubt would it be the waves -”always return”,”always return”,
it would say. Hundreds, then thousands, then millions, followed by billions of times over. If thoughts could
glow then these words will be the last light the universe witnesses until time itself becomes meaningless.
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