The Last Stop

Shao Zhen liked coming here, to the shadows of a small pagoda neatly hidden under the weathered branches of an old tree. He was often called “old man” too, nowadays. He did not mind. Names are for young people. He liked these quiet winter mornings - breaking fog giving way to the first rays of the day sparkling across the sleepy lake, brushing his pagoda with gentle hues. He ran his hand along the wooden sides, collecting the chill of the night dew, feeling the intricate ornament of the carvings, down to the bench, and to her delicate fingers, patiently waiting for his touch, turning her hand, following the intricate ornament of the lines on her palm.

She smiled. She cried. She was a student at Jiaotong University. He was a young commanding officer and a recent Academy graduate. He was still full of hope. Even then. Even after he told her. But she just knew. She felt it too well. The end of their road. Their last stop at the pagoda at end of the dream. His world reflected in her eyes, melting, disappearing with each escaped tear. His papers came that morning. Shao’s division has been relocated to Manchuria. The war was rolling down, but far from over. She said her family is moving to a province. He promised to find her. Life had other promises.

He liked coming here early to watch the long shadows of the waking day. His life was long too. He wrote. He waited. Her father arrested. Her brother lost in the turmoils of civil unrest. He kept writing. Hoping. Hospital. Honorary discharge. Letters returned. New life. New love. The pagoda at the end of the road. Thousand miles away. On the other end of the world.

He felt like that old tree. Each season taking away more leaves. Those remaining must be the most dear memories. Those seemingly forgotten, but still present, hidden behind the fresher ones all this time, until one day suddenly brought to life again. One day her leaf was gone. Taken away by the morning wind, carried down the flow of the lake, disappearing forever into the last patches of the thinning fog.

One day Shao Zhen came no more. The pagoda was still there, waiting patiently for an old man under the gentle cover of an old tree at the end of the road.

Reviews

[SheDreamsInTheSun]

This has to be one of the best things I have read in a long time, I love the story, the descriptions.. I caught myself in a daydream, imagining what that old pagoda looked like. Great read.

[Leo]

Thank You very much for such an exciting praise. I am very happy you liked this story and it's imagery so much! And the real life inspiration for this happened to be the pagoda in the picture on this post. Once again - appreciate your kind words!