Gravity

Chapter One: Time

There was nothing about the morning that suggested to Lee Hongbin that it would be different from any other day in August. In fact, the demands for rent payments, the large amounts of white envelopes, stamped in red with ‘final notice’, and the fact his electricity had just gone off seemed more to imply that it was the type of day that he wanted to avoid more than anything. He starred at his messed up bed sheets, no bed, under the only window in his one room. It was open and only the hot, sticky autumnal air blew in. He could just go back to bed; it would be easier.

Hongbin stubbed out his cigarette on an ashtray at the edge of the table. He starred at all the scattered photos on the table and the floor around, and then picked up his camera. Held together by tape, it was the only friend he had and also it was his meal ticket. When he could find some freelance work that was, or sell his photos. He thought. What was it now? Three months? Four…? And a half? He was so very tired of this life.

Le Hongbin walked over a bridge every morning. He thought about jumping, but he didn’t feel like it was the right time.

As he stepped out of the front door he pulled the collar up on his long, navy jacket. He dipped his hands into his pockets, pulled out a pack of cigarettes and shook it. One left. He lit it in frustration then headed down the street with his hands firmly in his pockets. He wanted to go somewhere new today, or at least somewhere he didn’t usually go. He had approximately enough cash for a bus return or enough money for one way on the tube to Notting Hill Gate station. No one spoke on the tube, so that was what he decided. He’d have to walk home. 

He liked London. There was something quaint and pictorial about it that held him there- and also how it seemed as dearer as its inhabitants. Dark colours, people who would say hi in a quick passing but would rarely stop to say more. Hongbin decided the people were always in a very quick rush to go absolutely nowhere at all.

He ignored the homeless people in the tube station begging for food and watched the board for the next train carefully. The tube was quiet, and he sat only in his thoughts for a stop. A man sat beside him and read a book. Opposite, a teenage girl sat down listening to music too loudly. The other passengers gave her looks but she ignored them all. Hongbin, too frustrated now, got off the train early. By the time he realised he’d gotten off at Queensway he was already through the ticket barrier. “Brilliant,” he muttered as people came and went around him. He pulled a newspaper from a nearby vendor who was too concerned with his beautiful customer to notice the pilfering. He wasn’t really interested in the contents, but it would provide him a distraction. He rolled it up and tucked it under his arm as he walked. He really regretted smoking his last cigarette. He rubbed his palms together; there was a nip in the air here. Unpleasant and overcast. Hongbin fixed his collar so it was pulled up around the back of his neck.

There was a market today. He sighed; this would mean lots of people and that would mean noise. It would also mean navigating streets around herds of people which was difficult when they wanted to move, let alone when they didn’t. He really hated crowds. Vendors yelled him as he pushed past, trying to get his attention to their latest deals. He didn’t really care, not until he came to a stall everyone seemed to be avoiding. In fact, no one seemed to even notice it was there. It was a clock stall, but0

“What good is a clock that doesn’t tell the time?” He muttered.

The old lady smiled at him behind her counter. “Not all clocks are for time.”

“Well these don’t even say the date, do they?”

He gaze turned colder. “I think you’d do well to be kinder to other people. You’ll never know who you’re talking to.”

“If you’re a celebrity, I really couldn’t care less. Not even if you were the queen,” he paused.  “You’re not though, are you? The queen, I mean.”

“I am just an old lady who see’s things and wishes to help others see.”

“See what?”

She leant across her stall. “Why everything,” she whispered. “I can tell your death, the day you’ll break your arm, when you’ll get a cat- when you’ll meet your soul mate.”

“Sounds like a bunch of nothing to me,” Hongbin muttered.

There was a twinkle in her eye as she pushed a watch towards him. “Try it.”

“I’d much rather know the winning lottery numbers.”

“You would do well to listen to me-“

“I don’t believe in soul mates-“

“Oh, but you should look at the time.”

Hongbin stared down at his new ‘watch’. The dial said 27 minutes and three seconds. “What’s going to happen is someone who works for you is going to turn up-“

“I will give that piece to you, a gift,” she said simply. “But do well to remember one thing, Mr. Hongbin.”

“What’s that?”

“We are not always destined for those who are destined for us.”

Hongbin sneered a little. “Not exactly a soul mate then, is it?” He pulled the watch on. It was pretty, if nothing else. “How do you know my name…?” He looked up.

The old lady and all traces of her stall, minus the watch now sat on his wrist, were gone. He swore he hadn’t been talking to himself, but she and her stall could not have disappeared like that.

“Preposterous,” He huffed. “Completely and utterly ridiculous.”

But as he felt the first drops of rain on his head and nose, he could not help but stare at the decreasing numbers on the face of the silver watch. He knew it meant nothing, just some crazy old lady, but perhaps he’d be able to sell it for scraps. After all, who wanted a watch that didn’t tell the time?