Fiction: Group 3
Presence of Emptiness
Ying Wa College, Ho, Yan Mong - 14, Fiction: Group 3
t was late at night and I barely caught the last train after work in Shenzhen. The train was empty, the
sort of emptiness when you feel that nothing interesting would happen. I observed things around me, it
was a habit of mine as a journalist. And this night, I noticed the different presences of emptiness
accompanying me.
The first emptiness I could feel on the train was a hollow and unfilled atmosphere made by things
that were lacking. There was no one in the compartment with me that was unusual even in this kind of
hour. There were no people talking, there were no telephone ringing, even the slightest movement would
have filled this void. But there was none of these things, so the emptiness stayed with me.
The second emptiness was less obvious, the silence. There was no laughter or
conversation, and all you could hear was the nonstop rumbling sound of the train. This rumbling sound was
different, it did not fill the hollowness like normal sounds could. Instead, it added hollowness to it. It was an
observer mocking at the first emptiness, it was a silence with a touch of criticism which added another level
of vacancy in the train.
The third emptiness was not easy to perceive, I did not notice it at first, but after
a while I could feel it creeping under my skin. It came from a man who took a seat opposite me a few
seconds ago, he was in his twenties and he was an Asian. His face was sorrowful and empty, like all hope had
already been taken away from him. The last emptiness was his, and the greatest emptiness was his, it was the
emptiness of a man without hope.
The instinct of a journalist kicked in, urgeing me to reveal the story behind the man’s mask.
“Hello, my name is Peter Chan, nice to meet you. It is a nicely written book, isn’t it?” I pointed at
the book clutched in his hand, The Book Thief.
The man was startled, he considered and said, “Do you believe in love at first
sight?”
I shook my head, confused.
“Well, I do. I have loved books the first time I laid my hands on them and I told
myself that I would read all the books in the whole world. And that was my goal then.
“Because of my thirst of knowledge, I successfully went into a high school, and then university. It
was not easy for me because my parents were farmers and I lived in a remote village.” He nodded and there
was a moment I could see a tinge of happiness on his face, but it faded just as it appeared.
I tried to conceal my smile underneath but still I smirked. I had always hungered for good stories
like this.
“I was a poet when I graduated, full of passion and enthusiasm, I was so excited about my life… I
was a fool. I thought that after all the hard work I’d gone through, I would find a decent job, but no! There
was nothing…”
He slid down in his seat and stared at the floor of the train, disappointed. I
remained silent and waited for his response. After a while he started again,
“I wanted to be a writer but....” he smiled bitterly.
There was another pause.
“My friends told me to work in Guangdong, they said life would be better here. They even said
that there were many job opportunities which promised a future as bright as a shining pearl! So I moved to
Shenzhen and I tried to be a librarian. I was turned down again. After that, I was slowly running out of
money, I needed a job quickly. My friend told me to work in a factory called Nosco which is a major
manufacturing hub in Southern China. And it is often called as a “sweatshop”.”
I gasped, “A poet working in a “sweatshop”?”
“At first, I couldn’t accept this job. After all these years of studying, and all I could do is labour
work? Running out of money, I had no choice. After I went in, I made a friend called Zhi Ming, and I
found out that he was also a college graduate, just like me and he worked happily in Nosco. I discovered
that I wasn’t the only one with the same problem out there, this changed my view of my job and I was
more willing to work there.
“I was more relaxed for a short time, but then I started to think about
I
