He Crossed to the Other Shore, and I Chased the Light

I folded 1,314 stars, but not one could light the road that brought you to me. In high school, Ming Nan was a shy mimosa hiding in the shadows, while He Xia was a poplar basking in the spotlight. Her happiest moments were squeezed into the cheerful gaps between her parents fighting over the sofa, and the glow of lights that stayed on all night during Lunar New Year's Eve. He never knew that the girl always folding stars in the corner filled her sketchbook with the fluttering hem of his shirt as he played basketball. A fishing accident in a torrential downpour took away Ming Nan's father, the one who would always fight for the seat beside Mom. The last message she sent He Xia was, “Please ask for leave for me,” but while clearing out her desk, she found the electrical safety manual he'd given her. On page 28, he'd circled in red: “Fishing beneath sagging power lines is dangerous.” Ten years later, she discovered that He Xia still had the same red spider lily as his social media cover photo. Touching the wooden clappers that had long since gone out of production, she remembered the doll she'd never managed to give him, its eyes crooked from her poor sewing. Were those feelings left unspoken just the timid yearnings of youth, or had fate already written a script of separation for them?