Clear Skies

Written by: Elina Ong (23-E3)

Designed by: Lim Sher Min (23-E1)

Under the fleeting twilight skies, a man wandered through the city. Wisps of shimmering gold escaped his cap like light through a forest canopy. He had the collars of his jacket up, hiding his profile from the passersby streaming past him.

Though the Moon had started to take the Sun’s place, the city still burned as bright as day, as if driving back the night to frolic just a little while longer.

This evening, the air was as dense as the streets, where street performers peppered the paths with their speakers blaring in competition with impatient traffic. Shopping malls lined the main road as advertisements screeched for attention from their billboards. The niche of a building’s outer walls served as the man’s sole refuge, shielding him from the roiling waves of sweaty bodies that had almost swept him to unknown destinations. Amidst the sensory overload of the commercial district, the man rubbed his temples with his lips pressed thin, his eyes shut tight to block everything out.

He had to get away. Away from this place that drowned out all that he was. 

The man took a deep breath and collected himself, opening his eyes again to the overwhelming scene before him. He squinted against the blinding lights with watery eyes and began to search for a route that would take him out of the cacophony. 

Down the road was a desolate alleyway; the surrounding radiance of the district left it devoid of colours as if rendered in a monochromatic photograph. Dubious, but it would do. Weaving through the claustrophobic crowd, he bumped into several shoppers, even sending a few bags crashing to the ground. And yet, no one took much notice of him. After much difficulty, he eventually found himself at the mouth of the alley and slipped in, hoping to find some tranquillity. 

The bustle of the city drifted away and the man could finally breathe easy. The blaze of city lights gave way to reveal an alley that, to his surprise, was not slathered in blacks and greys. Rather, he was greeted by walls of unfathomably deep blues. The minerals embedded in the decrepit walls of the alley glittered under the serene glow of the moon. The swirls mesmerised him, drew him in as they evoked memories of a life long gone. After a time, he tore himself away from the sights reluctantly and continued down the alley. 

It was all in the past. He had long accepted that he could never return.

Emerging from the shadows, the man wrinkled his nose at the hot stench of trash wafting out from walkways hidden behind stores, waiting to be whisked away by trash collectors in the morning. It was enough to purge him of the melancholy that had plagued him. On this side of the alley was a lifeless street. The shophouses bustling with customers just a few hours earlier were now cold and empty. He paused in front of an unassuming convenience store with a fluorescent sign flickering alone in the street.

After a moment of consideration, he entered the store, bumping into two students on the way in. The pair gave a slight bow, glancing at his face lit by the store lights. They giggled and gushed as they hurried off with their bags stuffed with snacks, but their enthusiastic discussion staggered as they tried to recall the man’s appearance with little success. 

At first, a clear picture. Then, the shadows of his face crept outwards, ignoring the contours that should have caged them. Finally, a static snow like that of an old television fell and blanketed the darkness. 

They turned the corner in silence, puzzled as their conversation came to a halt.

Witnessing the scene from the convenience store, a grin danced on the edges of the man’s lips. Having lived so long and seeing all that could be seen, there was not much entertainment to be had, so he made do with observing the behaviours of people he encountered. The expressions people made as the gap in their memories formed were the most amusing. A few centuries ago, they would be under the impression they had an undiagnosed condition ailing their minds, whipping their heads around frantically to scan for the spectre they could have sworn they bumped into. It would have sent them spiralling into paranoia. These days, the reactions were much more subdued, with eyes darting around in a panic to find someone else who had experienced the same enigma.

As the pair strolled out of sight, the man turned back to his own matters, grabbing a few cans of alcohol from the humming fridges before strolling past the counter and back onto the street. The cashier ran after him from behind the counter, bewildered that anyone would steal so blatantly. However, as the glass doors slid close behind him, his memories, too, were lost like a fluttering flame in a gentle breeze. 

With his refreshments in hand, the man continued on his way. Past the deserted recesses of the city, was a lake with a single willow tree on its bank. It had been long forgotten by the city dwellers, perhaps for the better. The man settled in a worn spot by the base of the willow tree, far enough to get a view of the sky unobstructed by its leaves, yet still close enough to feel its presence grounding him.

Shaking his hair free of his cap, he turned his gaze to the sky. A featureless abyss, save for two specks of glitter. The only two who had held out as their brethren fell around them. A vast field, an ornate theatre, a resplendent ballroom; that bleak sky hanging above was once all that and more. In a realm where day and night held no meaning, it had been a kingdom of unending revelries.

One day, the land below began to light up. 

And they started to fall.

Over the centuries, he had managed to come across only a handful of old friends. Some, like him, had accepted this new way of life amongst humans. Some chose to live in seclusion, filled with spite towards humanity, who had once looked upon them with awe and reverence, but then torn them from the sky. Some reunions had taken place in abandoned streets as they recuperated from the overpowering glamour of the main streets, where they were caught in states so pitiful, not a trace of their former majesties could be seen.

He watched the remaining two flicker in the sky with a hint of envy. Why were they the only ones left? What did they do differently? Why was he not one of them?

That envy soon gave way to horror as one began to dim, intermittently pulsing brighter as it fought to stay alight. In its desperation, it burned brighter than ever; the first beacon dotting the night sky in millennia.

Then it vanished.

The man waited, his eyes still fixed on the sky looking for any sign of the spark. Nothing. The man sighed and looked away with wistful eyes. “Et tu, Jupiter?”

He reached for a can and cracked it open, raising a toast to the solitary planet hanging in the sky with a wry smile.

“Well fought Venus. Take your time to collect your winnings. Just don’t come down too soon.”