Blind

  • By Audrey Lau
  • •
  • 31 Jan, 2020

People often ask me whether or not I’m afraid of being in the dark all the time. “Well,” I tell them, “You get used to it.” And I have.


Being in the dark has made me used to going without things. Like the feeling of being weak and unsure of where I’m going. Like the ability to walk any steps without guidance from my trusty cane. Like colour.


There used to be a little bird who sang his little song outside my window each morning. I remember he used to have colour. Like I’ve said, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen anything, really.


According to my caretaker, Julia, he was what was called a ‘red robin’. I don’t remember what the colour red looks like. For all I know, he’s just a bird. I can still hear my little bird friend, of course. But I still miss colour every so often.


Colour. Like the oranges and pinks of a glorious sunset; the fresh green of a new leaf; the shimmering blue expanse we call the oceans. At least that’s what my grandchildren tell me whenever they come to see their sorry old grandfather at his nursing home.


Of course, I don’t remember colour very well anymore. I’ve gone without it for 30 some years, after all. It does help to remember the colour names of things, my grandchildren have been very helpful with that. But I still miss seeing things for myself.


Over the years, I’ve grown tired of sticking out my cane everywhere I walk. Or the constant feeling of uncertainty whenever I take a step, unsure of whether the next step I take will be onto the street or into a street lamp.


Some days, I even wish that I didn’t take colour for granted so much. I wish I had absorbed more, seen more when I was younger. I didn’t do enough of that and now, I have none of it. I tell my grandchildren this every chance I get. To enjoy it while it lasts.


Although I must admit, the more I miss colour, the more I miss other things. Like Barbara.


Barbara was wonderful. My wife of 70 years. She passed not long ago.


With her passing, it was as though the last vestiges of colour had left me.


I remember her hair the most of all. It was downy, and soft. I no longer remember the colour, but my children tell me that it was a vibrant auburn, then a silvery grey. I wish I could recall her face, the lines on her palms, but all I can remember is the feel of her hair against my fingers. Even now, the texture of her hair is fading from my memory. I miss her.


So, children. I know this might sound bitter, but take this message from a sorry old man with not much else to live for. See as much of the world you can. Enjoy the colour while it lasts.






Scythe #316

By Lynette Chan • January 31, 2020

“Passage for Scythe #316, please.” A card was thrown upon the desk as the tired guard looked up at its owner.

“Radley Ames, on assignment to… London?”  

“Yup, that’s right.” Radley nodded.

“Ok then,” the guard said, “you know the rules?”

“Yea-”

“No interacting with humans, no deviation from your assignment and no bringing back anything from the mortal world. Once done, guide your assignment to the rehabilitation centre for it to start training as a Scythe.” The guard leaned over, opening the gates of Styx.

“Thanks!” He grinned as he darted through the gate. Just in time, the train was arriving. He jumped onto the train, full of other Scythes on their way to their missions.

“This stop: Central Styx. Next stop: New York, America.” The female voice crackled through the speaker. Radley sat down with a sigh and cracked open the file, it was going to be a long journey and he still hadn’t checked who his mission was. His mission was… her? He hadn’t seen her since he died, 37 years ago. He ran a hand through his spiked hair; he was suddenly glad the train ride was going to be long.

He was back in his hospital bed. There was a voice, loud and disturbing. He turned to see what was happening. Was something wrong?

“No, he can’t die now! He’s too young and I refuse to believe there’s nothing you can do!”

“I’m sorry, it’s out of my hands. At best, I believe he has around 3 months left.”

Her sobs grew louder, almost drowning out his panic. Something was on his cheek, a tear. Then suddenly the sobs were fading and the room was spinning…

“This stop: London, England. Next stop: Barcelona, Spain.” He stumbled out the door, cursing under his breath. He mulled over the memories he had seen and forgotten long ago. His time in that dull room was an old phase of his life and he had already started a new one in his un-life as a Scythe. Thoughts spun round and round his head as he stepped through the portal into Charing Cross station. He looped through and around people; though he was invisible to the swarm around him, he still didn’t feel like bumping into people. He stepped outside in the cool weather, savouring the chilly bite of the breeze and the Picadilly Circus. However, he couldn’t stand here forever, he had a job to do. He pulled out the file to check the place of death. Died of old age in her home while asleep. “Shes always wanted to move here. I never really understood why.” He chuckled to himself.

“The doctor says you haven’t got long. We’ve only got a few more months before...” She trailed off,

“It’s ok,” he smiled sadly, “we’ll just have to make the most out of it.”

“There’s still so much for you to do! You haven’t even finished school, and we still haven’t moved to that nice flat near the Picadilly Circus.” Tears were quickly wiped away by a rapid hand,

“I stll don’t know why you want to move there.” Sad chuckles were exchanged as they relished one of the few moments they had left.

There was the door, all he had to do was walk through it. He didn’t even have to knock; just take a step through the door. She was just another mission that he needed to fulfill. No big deal, just go in and guide her to the training centre. He had been doing this everyday since he finished training, it wasn’t hard. He sighed, it had to happen sooner or later. Reluctantly, he stepped through the door and found… absolutely nothing. “Where is she?” Radley thought to himself, He started looking around the messy apartment, looking for clues on her whereabouts. There were unfinished knitting projects, half-read books lying around and so many photos of her and him and his family. One in particular caught his eye, right before his death, of him and her and the hospital. One last happy moment, taken a week or so before his passing. As much as he wanted to reminisce, he had a mission to carry out. “Where would she go?” Usually after people die, they loiter near their place of death, it wasn’t often Radley had had to hunt them down. Then out of the corner of his eye, another photo, thrown half-hazardly on a chair. He picked it up A family picnic, in Green Park. “Of course” He rushed out of the flat, this was one of her favourite places, of course she’d go there.

“Who wants the last sandwich?” She announced to the family,

“Me! I want it!” a girl ran to the basket hurriedly,

“Nope Sam, it’s mine” Radley smirked, snatching it out of her hands.

“What?! Noo! Mum!” Sam whined, Radley took a bite out of his stolen good with a victorious smile on his face.

“Radley, I-I need to talk to you” He turned and saw her face, pale and scared, and he knew. Something happened, something terrible.

“Okay, I’m here now. Where is she?” He looked around happy families and green shrubbery. He wandered around the park, looking for her among the small crowd of people enjoying their lives. He watched benches, picnics and ice-cream vans, she seemed to be nowhere found. There was one last place he hadn’t been yet. The fountain. He had a feeling she was going to be there, but he couldn’t bring himself to go. He headed there with a heavy heart, each step reminding him of his old life. And there she was, just sitting there. Watching everyone. It was time.

“Mum?”

“Mum?” He questioned as she lead him to the fountain, “What’s wrong?”

“I think it’s best if you sit down for this.” she sighed as she guided him down,

“Well, the doctors called-” she started,

“And?” Radley asked,

“You, um,” She sniffled, “You have cancer, lung cancer.”. His eyes widened in shock, he was only 15, how did this happen? “I’m so sorry,” she embraced him, “but we can get through this. We will.”. He never saw the tears falling from her eyes.

“Radley?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Yep. Hi mum.” He smiled through the awkwardness,

“Wait, I don’t understand. Am I dead? Why are you here? Are we going to heaven? What happened?” Question after question that he needed to answer.

“Well, we are both now deceased,” he paused, giving her time to digest, “I’m here, because I’ve been assigned to take you to Styx.”

“Styx?”

“Yes, there’s not really a heaven or hell, it’s just like the real world, except with new jobs and experiences. It’s like life after death. I will take you to the training centre to become a Scythe, like me.”

“A Scythe? You mean, this is your job? Taking souls back to Styx?” She spoke,

“Yeah-” he started,

“Wait, I’ve just seen you for the first time in 37 years, and this is what I’ve done first thing?” She began,

“It-” Then he was enveloped in a hug. 37 years since he had felt this, and it felt nice.

“Thanks mum,” tears were welling, “shall we go?” She took a breath,

“Okay.”


11

By Rebecca Yang • January 31, 2020

But now

It’s all gone

Nothing but

A thing

Of the past

But now

You’re not here

Nothing but

A shadow

In the darkness

But now

I’m all alone

Nothing but

A shell

Of a person

People are

So hard

To understand

So tell me

Why am I

Spending time

Trying

To find

Answers

When I

Don’t even know

My own

Why am I

Wasting time

Hunting

For

A response