Fiction: Group 4
New Tales of the Pearl River Delta
Island School, Patel, Mohini - 14, Fiction: Group 4
irt. It travelled through the river; swam through the fish and hid quietly beneath the salt. The days
the sun shone, green feathers appeared through the waters. And the beautiful colour of the sun
would reflect a mix of orange and pink that used to fill the dark blue sky and colour the puffy
white clouds.
But today it rained. The rain like drops of dust, splattered on my head as I staggered down the hills, trying to
search for my boat. I am a poor fisherman. My small hut is located two miles north of the river. It wasn’t
even a proper hut; made of mud, bamboo, sand and anything else my family could find. Everyday, I feed
three fish to my family; my wife, my three children and myself. But nowadays, fish have become harder and
harder to find.
I perched myself on my dilapidated boat and stared at my shadow, pondering over the day’s events. My boat
was buoyed by the waves as I tried to fish in vain. Silence. I looked around and found myself alone on the
river. Only endless blue until the horizon. I remember the water being crystal clear and I could see
miniature boats proudly sailing along glass-like water catching the breeze. A few other fishermen and I
would wake up everyday at five in the morning to fish. It was a daily routine, a routine that became a part
of our lives, and a routine that we patiently followed. But today there were no boats around. It was just me.
I decided to continue looking for fish. I had no choice; otherwise my family would go to bed hungry
tonight. My heart sank. I couldn’t leave my children starving. I bent my head and looked down. Then by
the grace of God, I saw something. A yellow liquid permeated the water. I touched it. I knew what it was,
shampoo. Yesterday, at the market everyone was whispering about it, about how shampoo has been found
in the water. I never thought it was true though. I had been fishing for my whole life, and never found a
single drop of dirt, until ten years ago.
As the time passed by, the sky progressively became black, seeming to look like a void. I looked up in the
sky trying to search for a star. But the sky was covered by a large amount of smoke, protecting it like a veil.
The wind started picking up strength and the ghostly chill it brought seemed to replace my spine with a
large chunk of ice, freezing my entire body. My thin coat had given up on me, given up on the fight having
being outmatched by the hard breathing of the wind. The waves were much larger now, desperately
reaching for my boat. The waves seemed to be telling me that I had to leave, that I had to go home. But
there was no fish. I hadn’t even caught a single one. That night I went home with no food to feed my
family. As I anxiously walked home, I couldn’t bear to think that my children were going to bed on an
empty stomach. Sweat trickled down my forehead as my dry hands started to fill with moisture.
“There will be no dinner tonight.” Those six words escaped my mouth before I knew it. I saw my wife’s
eyes widened in shock. “No dinner. Why?” her voice hoarse and trembling. So I told her. I told her
everything about the river being empty, how shampoo was leaked throughout parts of the river and that no
single fish was found. Trails of tears rolled down her cheek, mucus trickled down her nose and her lips
quivered. I would never forget that moment, that scared look on my wife’s face, the dejection I caused. The
night went like a blur. Crying, hunger and tiredness. I remember tucking my children in. I could see them
holding back the tears, the tears craving for food.
The next day, the market was filled with crowds of people. The market was situated ten kilometers south
from the river. I would cycle there every Saturday morning. Today, the sun was shining and a slight breeze
blew across my face. The market was charged with bustling, busy people running around and shouting.
Fisherman flocked to the market selling their fish. Locals come here for one reason only; to buy the fish.
One stall, run by a man known as Lee Ho, spilled out his fish out on the wooden table. There was so many,
I couldn’t even count. But where did he find the fish rom? It was just me today in the river, and I couldn’t
find any.
D
