Always Together, Forever Apart

By Keyue Li

This is a collection of several short stories. Most of the protagonists in these stories are marginal and almost invisible people (actually one protagonist is really invisible) in our daily life. These protagonists provide different and often unheard perspectives compared to the mainstream or "one right v

• Language: English
• Publisher: Asian Culture Press
• Release date: Oct 9, 2021
• ISBN: 9781736838990

Book preview

Preface：Writing as Salvation

People say that if you wait long enough in your darkest time, there will eventually be a miracle created by your invisible guardian angel to save you from the abyss. For me, the miracle is writing and my guardian angels are the little characters in the stories I write.

I love my characters. Each of them has their own hope, struggle, desire and love that push them on a legendary journey in search of the way home. For me, similarly, writing is finding the way to my soul. I create the characters but they live independent lives out of my control the moment their characteristics and background experience are comprehensive enough for them to come alive. I see them standing in front of me smiling at me. I have amazing adventures with them in the imaginary land, experiencing different kinds of life which I can never possibly have in reality.

When I am with my characters, I feel no longer lonely or self-contemptuous. They remind me of my bravery, creativity and kindness in the adventures with them. They encourage me to look at the stars even in the gutter and to know it’s ok to make mistakes. Most importantly, they tell me that reality is also a beautiful world in which I can live a fantastic life and be proud of myself.

People around me cannot understand my deep connection with the characters. They think that a substantial relationship can only happen between two real humans. But I consider all my little characters as the most important beings in my life because they are the ones who reached out to me when I was alone in the abyss and guided me to be proud of myself in both the imaginary and the real world. Just like the title of one story in this book (the story is about an invisible elf and a real human), Always Together Forever Apart, I believe this is the same with my relationship with the little characters in my pen. Although I can never really touch them, I know that they are always by my side constantly giving me warmth and support.

We are forever apart.

We are always together.

Snow, Dragon, Tree, Wasteland and Me

# A story about a man, a dragon and a tree together fleeing to a wasteland on a snowy winter day

Another sleepy afternoon, another Chinese class at school. Third period in the afternoon is always the drowsiest.

I twiddle my fingers to kill time and then think of how not that long ago, I felt like a bird. And how now this bird can't fly out of the damned stratosphere. I give up trying, and just let the emotions sweep me under, looking at myself from a distance like some detached spectre.

It is snowing outside, the window blowing like deep-sea whale songs. It’s the first snow of this month, the second of this winter. My classmates cling to the corridor fence like monkeys watching monkeys, each taking pictures and cheering with some unknown excitement.

Out of nowhere, a dragon rushes down from the snow-filled sky, lifting the roof of the city hall with its tail. Its body is covered in scars. It flails, and finally is so crushes onto our roof.

In that moment, I feel that I know the dragon.

I rush out from the crowd of shocked monkeys and run up the familiar stairs that lead to the top. The door is locked, so I lever the it open with scissors. The dragon turns his head to me, alarmed, and I grow a little worried that it would breathe fire (although it could be a lot warmer this way).

I don't know what to do as the dragon is so incompatible with this dumb world where everything is logical and banal.

So I ride up and hug it like a scene from a vulgar fantasy novel.

I feel the dragon groaning underneath me. I have really gained plenty of weight recently.

I whisper the Song of Dragon out of tune and pray that it can fly.

The teachers begin to pry open the door that I just closed.

Take me out of here, please.

At that moment, it leaps up, blowing snow into my eyes. I feel myself ascending. I lean my body close to it as if I can become a part of it in this way.

I rush out of the world.

Out of the stratosphere.

Soaring.

We fly past many places in the city, all of them starting to turn white. I don't like white very much. I heard some people get blind in the snow.

I know it must land, and I don't care where.

We come to the suburbs. It is not easy to be caught here. The dragon is indeed smart, at least much smarter than me.

Here there are large patches of land. It reminds me of the place where the high-speed trains passed when I went to participate in a linguistics or English speech contest. It's neither desolate nor organized, just like the pastoral era when there were only a few people on Earth. Of course, it isn't that idealistic.

There is a giant tree standing in the empty wilderness. I feel that the tree is both free and lonely like me and the dragon.

So the three of us are now wrapped up like a taco by something called destiny, together keeping each other warm on this snowy day.

It is indeed a lot warmer under the tree, and its canopy of branches shield us from a great amount of wind and snow. The dragon's wound is very visible, and I force myself to look it and figure out a solution. At this moment, I find that the taste of the tree is very unique, reminiscent of the smell of overturned bottles of my mum's essential oils.

I say sorry to the tree and break off a branch. I smash the leaves with my hands, and apply the mush to the dragon's wound. The dragon is very well-behaved. Although it is big and ugly, I think it's a good dragon.

Then the dragon falls asleep.

I know that our teachers must have called the police, and the helicopter is now searching for us everywhere, not because of how precious we are, but because of the danger we may bring to those who are precious. Thinking of this, I suddenly feel the airy sense of freedom fill my body once more.

Fortunately, the leaves are dense enough to cover us so we are not in danger for the time being, but this is not a long-term solution. We must think of a plan to get out of here. Maybe go to a country where dragons and flying trees can be accepted by people? Or to the space station? Neither of them seems feasible. And in fact, I am the only one that is able to think. After all, the other two are an animal and a plant.

However, it turns out that people are really the most foolish sometimes.

The giant tree rises up from the ground and transforms into a treehouse, which not only wraps me softly and warmly, but also becomes a bandage and armor on the dragon’s wound.

This is so sick.

The three of us begin the journey without looking back like in Stolen Life.

We descend along the wind, like whitewater rafting or ziplining in a forest.

We fly for a long time, avoiding crowded places along the way, until we come to a wasteland. In my memory, there was no wasteland this large near the city.

The wasteland is a deserted place, and the three of us walk