Fiction: Group 2
youngsters expressed demands for fair and free elections. Cascades of sounds and spirits of vigor filled the
air. There were undeniable passion and determination written on the youngsters’ faces albeit the gusty
winds. My friends were dumbfounded, perhaps mesmerized in their own experience of the Chinese
Revolution in 1911, which after many uprisings, victory was finally achieved. For a while, they seemed to
be lost in contemplation. I guessed they were reckoning whether these youngsters would accomplish their
goals one day.
Indeed, I knew the answer, yet it was an unspoken rule that I should not spill the
beans. Ah, the pair of them was weary, I noticed. I bid my two amiable acquaintances a fond farewell, and
brought them back to their respective homes.
Me too, when I reached my planet, I had to stumble out from my time machine,
giddy with exhaustion. My history books were still unmoved, next to my bed. It did not take me a minute
to drift off to sleep next to them, with the most contented smile on my face.
