On the Footbridge
Night was coming, and the sky was dyed dark purple. It was time for dinner, and people were going home, with hurrying steps and eager hearts.
She was walking alone on the footbridge. It was a familiar footbridge. She used to walk past this footbridge to the railway station everyday when she was studying. And now, she walked past this footbridge everyday, too, to the bus-stop where she could find a bus which carried her to the firm in which she was working. And, of course, she walked past this footbridge whenever she was coming back home, from school, as well as the firm.
The heels of her shoes made a repeating, monotonic complaint against the ground. Her legs were moving, though rather reluctantly in mechanical pattern. But she didn’t know whether she was controlling them.
Her job was nothing exhausting, physically. She was a clerk, a personnel assistant. The only thing for which had to use her energy was putting the files onto the upper shelf – and walking along this footbridge, perhaps.The heels of her shoes made a repeating, monotonic complaint against the ground. Her legs were moving, though rather reluctantly in mechanical pattern. But she didn’t know whether she was controlling them.
But she was tired.
Unconsciously she felt the pack of documents in her hand, which reminded her that three reports were due tomorrow. An enormous worry, which she had been forgetting for a moment, came back again, and swallowed her up.
Reports. It was at that time of the year when reports were to be written. She had handed two to her boss this morning, but there were still three left. And she knew that there would be some again later. They would keep on coming. They would never stop.
Well, she could finish them tonight, or if she couldn’t – no, she could. She could, anyway, finish them, very roughly, perhaps. It didn’t matter. Her boss wouldn’t fire her owing to a rough, ungrammatical report. That’s true. But, she was not willing. Whenever she got started on her work, she wished to do something better, at least write something clear and effective, as she was taught in school. But every time she would find at last that her product was rubbish – rubbish again. By experience she could predict her dissatisfaction and disappointment at the end, even before she started.
She didn’t love her job, really. She didn’t understand why she had been working in it for five years. But the question was, she couldn’t see why she should give it up. Maybe she could find another job. But what’s the difference? She would also feel tired.
She had thought of not working. But it’s impossible. She needed money, like everyone else. You can’t survive if you have no money. That’s true. But the main problem was, if she didn’t work, what else should she do then?
She glanced up at the sky, and saw a star, as bright as a diamond in laid on a black velvet. She used to love this star very much, when she was still a student. Whenever she felt tired and worried on her way home from school, she would look at the star, which, she felt, was a guiding star, always shining with encouraging brightness.
But now, she felt the star disgusting. It was too high above. It was mocking at her, with apathy, she believed.
She glanced down at the flashing and dazzling neon lights of the street. Long lines of vehicles were queuing beneath the bridge, groaning impatiently.
Hong Kong was really a busy city. And it was also a maze.
She stopped, gazing at the street with dizzy eyes.
Who am I?
What am I doing?
And why?
She felt a creature stuck on the back of her brain, sucking her blood …
A gust of wind clapped on her face. She trembled, realizing that she was not in a dream.
She continued to walk, and saw a woman walking past, carrying a little child. She smiled at the child with envy. How happy he was! Nothing to worry, nothing to care about!
But, he would grow up – certainly, and one day he would have to walk past this footbridge like her.
She suddenly felt pity for the child.
She liked children, very, very much. They were the most and only innocent beings. From their smiles, she could see the natural, purest job of life.
She had once thought of teaching in a kindergarten. But after she heard some friends complaining about the toil of teaching naughty children, she gave up the idea. She didn’t want to ruin her ever-existing beautiful picture of children – her only hope and faith in life.
“Where would you like to have dinner, darling?”
A young couple were walking hand in hand towards her, and passed her.
“Anywhere is fine, dear.”
That could be a retreat, really. Look for a boyfriend, and then get married, and have a small, warm family …
That could be a retreat, really. Look for a boyfriend, and then get married, and have a small, warm family …
No. She had thought of this, but she knew that’s not the way.
You can never live with the one you really love.
Real, fulfilled love could only be found in fairy tales, in which the prince and princess were always living together happily.
But she was no longer a child.
Her heart was suddenly bitten by a special feeling, which faded away quickly.
It didn’t matter. After all, she could earn a living for herself. She didn’t need a person to depend upon. Having a companion is fine, but you will never feel happy living with a person you don’t really love. She didn’t want to find trouble to herself, really.
She reached the end of the footbridge, and walked down the stairs.
“Don’t step on two stairs at one time,” she told herself.
The light besides the staircase was always out of order. So she always walked down the stairs with fear, worrying that she would fall. Well, in fact she didn’t know why she had to worry. She had walked up and down this staircase for more than four thousand times; and she had never fallen down. And, even if she fell over, and rolled down the stairs, what’s the matter? She might be hurt seriously by the fall. She might break one or two legs, or arms, or even lose her life.
But indeed, what’s the importance? She might disappear suddenly one day for no reason or a reason nobody knew, but nothing would change. The earth would still move around the sun. And the night would still come, a bit earlier in winter and later in spring, perhaps. Even that disgusting star would still be shining with jeer.
Perhaps the only difference was that she would no longer feel tired. But, who knows?
She stepped down, the heels of her shoes making a louder complaint. The creature on her brain had sucked full, and left her brain empty. Her eyelids were falling down, so she blinked heavily to keep herself awake. She hated blinking because every time she had closed her eyes, she had to open them again.
She continued to step down, looking far away at the neon-lights. The attractive enchanting colour might force her eyes to open. It might …
Suddenly she looked back down onto the stairs, seeing that one of her feet was placed between two steps. She forgot which step it should be, but before she could decide, her body had already leant forwards.
With unconscious reaction she grasped the handrail, but her body was still at the point of falling.
That’s the retreat! She could loosen her hand, and, everything would finish. That’s great! That’s a relief! No tiredness. No work.! No reports.
But – she injected an additional effort to her hand, which caught the handrail tightly, and stabilized her body – that’s not worthy.
It was after all a great decision. She knew she shouldn’t make such a great decision at that moment, at which her physical and mental condition were not normal, not representative enough.
She stood on the staircase and took a deep breath. She could have a rest when she arrived home, and then have dinner, and then write her reports, and then go to bed, and have a comfortable sleep. Tomorrow would be another day, another new day. Everything would be new, when the sun visited everybody on the earth.
She smiled, and rushed down the rest of the staircase in one breath.
When she left the last step and reached the ground, an immense heaviness invaded her legs.
She move to the zebra crossing, and looked up back at the footbridge, regretting the crazy rushing.
Tomorrow would be a new day. But, at that time tomorrow, she would have to be walking along that footbridge again.
With a sigh, she crossed the road, and let herself dissolve in the crowd.