Somehow out of nowhere, the sky began to rain cats and dogs. Weather forecasts told of nothing special. It was an absolutely clear day, soaring thirty fives, spotless heavens, not even a single cloud in sight. Quite a feat for a polluted city. No terrible winds or particularly violent sea currents. In fact the entire coastline of the New Territories, Hong Kong island and the surrounding islands beyond off of Lantau were just as indifferent. Seismologists, meteorologists, astronomers, biologists, wildlife conservationists, philosophers, nuclear technicians, architects, military intelligence, neurologists, psychiatrists, politicians, office secretaries, sailors, depressed eight-to-midnight workers, bank tellers, tenacious paparazzi, factory labourers, Filipino maids, NEETs, old men doing Taichi in the park, drunken rich kids in Lan Kwai Fong, angry ladies bartering for groceries, school children, celebrities flaunting their bodies, single mothers, abusive fathers or vice versa, tourists from China buying out supplies, poor indie musicians, street vendor owners, bus drivers, no one understood. They all stopped. And they looked up. And so it began to rain cats and dogs. It began to damage property - break windows, punch through roofs and flatten cars, clog sewers and subway entrances. The streets were painted red. Like loan sharks had finally come for money. And nobody could do anything about it.
The taxi driver said to me, "what did I say? This is the government's dumping ground."
It stank. They shouldn't have looked up.
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Of Forests & Clocks & Dreams (A Literary & Art Collection)
Short Story[Literary, Short Story, Poems, Art, Philosophy] (In Editing) Strange conversations, ringing phones, umbrellas, talking birds, a girl with a top hat, grandfather clocks, transfigured stones, a missing archaeologist, bowls of rice, a man with twelve t...
