By April Xiaoyi Xu © 2014

High above us rests the night sky - tranquil, subtle, and inscrutable. Powerfully, the scene arouses wonder and awe, which invoke a sense of morality and religion in me. Coincidental? Destined? Whether the high power resides there, I do not know. Neither does this bottle of wine, which sits in front of me. A sense of surrealism encompassed us.

At the age of ninety, I am grateful that an event took place a couple of months ago. After all, longevity in our society today is no longer merely an unattainable dream - with the fountain of youth and all those other inventions, we are perfectly free to choose the length of our existence on this planet. However, few may have the privilege to experience what I am just about to reveal to you. Although I feel confident that you will enjoy this tale and benefit from some of its philosophical messages that you may find useful in life, I am meanwhile assured, judging from the attitude of those who have already listened to this story, that I have to give you a precaution. This story is solely based on reality, and I beg you to trust me as I narrate it to you, without any expressions of despise or distrust that I am yet another boring old story teller. I also urge you to read the story with an open mind, so that you can feel free to link your own identity and your own experience with mine.

If you would like to follow me to this peculiar spot on our planet, then let us embark this voyage. For me, it will be a journey of rediscovery, a reminiscent quest of defining myself, and for you, a new chapter of your life, possibly.

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I maintain a healthy lifestyle. In fact, I am particularly proud that at the age of ninety, I am a cross-country runner who loves natural scenery. On this mild April day, I was enjoying an afternoon run from the suburban areas of Cambridgeshire, when I spotted something unusual. Within seconds, I was literally rubbing my eyes to see how alive I really was - was my fountain of youth intake on that day sufficient? Was my VivaSuper drug intake rations enough? Without even realising it, I had stopped under an elm tree, whose shadows gently covered me against the hectic heat. I scruntinised my new findings after rubbing my eyes several times.

On the ground, which had been busily occupied with wildflowers in all occasions from my experience, actually resided something else. Startled at first sight, I noticed a grin. Mind you, I am not using this literary device called ‘metaphor’, which I learnt at school all the way back in 2022 as a fourth-grader. I saw hundreds of flowers who had human faces - children’s faces to be more specific! Thankfully, I was not negatively affected by this sight at all, certainly to your surprise - the light note is that those flowers were all smiling earnestly as if they were convincingly my old friends. I took a few steps closer, as curiosity put me off the guards.

The sizes of the flowers were rather hackneyed. Yet, they looked so surreal, transcending both natural creations of our Almighty God and our human ingenuity. I exhaled to release my disbelief and attempted to calm down, and took another couple of steps towards the flowers, until I finally dropped a level, and felt the gentle tickles of their leaves as the plants hosted my nostril with hospitality. I closed my eyes to sense the irresistible aroma of those plants, and then gently placed my hands around the petals, feeling the tenderness of each one of them.

The children-flowers were beaming naively to me, without a single word. I silently hoped that they could start an interesting conversation, but did not know how I should possibly proceed! They probably could not speak yet, as their appearances suggested that they ranged from a few months old to two years old. When I gazed at the field of children-flowers further away from where I was standing, I squinted and reluctantly concluded that there seemed to be one or two rare ones which seemed very mature. The petals on those flowers were darker in colour and the faces reflected the visage of teenagers. I was bewildered - even with the wondrous effects of the fountain of youth, I could hardly experience what it was like to be a teenager again. My teenage-hood, from the years 2025 to 2036, seemed to have faded away so long ago, never been recollected because I seldom bothered to look back. Perhaps our social trend did affect my mode of thinking, too.

My sweaty T-shirt dried quickly under the radiant sunshine. I decided to talk to the elder children-flowers, and did not hesitate to make more steps towards them. Just as I was walking, I found stepping on the other children-flowers unavoidable, but did my best to eschew from their smiling faces - they were still so gentle, so inviting and so exuberant.

I could hardly resist the temptation of walking while looking at the petals near me, so avidly.  The children-flowers offered a variety of ethnicities and characteristic traits. Some had blonde hair, long eyelashes and azure eyes and others looked more Asian, Latin American and African. Although the species, I might as well label the children-flowers, had distinctive features, they were all similar in the way how they were intoxicating me. Curiously, my instant reaction at that time was that to me, they possessed the effects of wine. Later, though, I thought that this encounter altered my perception of the effects of wine on me.

For quite a while now, wine has been soothing my frustration. In the our world today, people, from my observations, are escapists. What is the past? The passed. What happened before, no matter how significant those events are to us - both as a society as a whole and as individuals. Most people in my society resist history - his story, not our truth.

Those creatures, rather than plants that were encompassing me, aroused an immediate sense of surrealism. A gentle breeze was caressing this naturalistic scene. The petals, almost a colourful ocean of oscillating waves, created ebbs and flows. I appeared tiny here, for the first time in my life.

I closed my eyes, refreshed, sensed the breeze massaging every part of me, as if I was reborn. At that moment, I forgot about my own existence; about time; and about everything else. It was an ecstasy.

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Dusk.

I was standing in front of the rare teenage children-flowers, who were also surrounded by the babyish ones, once again, hoping that they would talk to me.

They waited, just as I did. Each pair of eyes was starring at me, mildly. In our world, it is easy to indulge in this state of mind where I feel like the centre of attention - beyond daily life, our wonderful inventions, largely dated from the 2090s, assist us to escape from events that we do not like. A tiny portion of the VivaSuper drug would be fairly sufficient. The teenage children-flowers, on the other hand, eyed me signals which I could somehow interpret.

‘Join us. Here, we will support you.’

Those words were not commands, but warm-hearted invitations. And so I did listen to them. Within a second, I was lying down on the flowerbed with my face pressing on their tiny faces, fully aware that the majority of them were the little ones.

‘Please turn around.’

Once again, I gladly accepted this invitation. The sky was gracefully adorned with the features of dusk. Together with the children-flowers, I starred at the darkening sky, enjoying the serenity.

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An hour must have elapsed when I felt something heavy on my knees. Slightly startled, I sat up and found myself… hugging a baby!?

The children-flowers were whispering to me, producing navy-blue lights. I appreciated them for creating this spectacular scene, and eagerly held up the baby so that I could observe her countenance.

She looked at me. Her eyes were dark, and her hair brunette. She was wearing a dress with sunflower patterns with the name ‘Abril’ stitched on the corner.

Why is there an immediate recognition? Why am I feeling personal connections with this baby? No, she is not any of my children or grandchildren, for she is distinctive from those children whom I brought up. Yet, there is so much resemblance.

For she was…

Myself. 

As the children-flowers whispered in my ears, simultaneously as my heart told me so.

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Myself.

I could feel her steady heartbeat, see her eyes glitter under the night sky, and hear her rhythmic breath. In my mind, she was perfect. She had the option to alter everything in life.

There was, but one problem, however, that just as I had been unaware of our frivolous habits in the society in 2102 before meeting her, she was unaware of the vast window of opportunity in her –

Back in around 2012.

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2 - A baby? Not particularly, any more. Flowery Abril grew up to be two years old in my own hands under the surreal night sky. I offered her some more room to grow under my caring arms. Her vivacity… Her splendid youth… That glance of eagerness to know intrigued me. I could never forget this moment I pressed my lips on your faultless skin, fearing that my moral sins would contaminate you in any way. And they did not. This mere contact with you, or with my younger soul, christened me fully and gave me life. Let me treasure the moment. 

0 - The moment baby Abril left my mother’s womb, she began to officially exist on this planet in 2012 C.E.. She did not know how the world would change around her in the next few decades, and of course, she was completely ignorant that her ninety-year-old self would be delightfully admiring her in a kingdom which belonged to baby flowers. Flowery babies like her are rare to find in this mundane world, where individuals do not care to look back. But you, Abril, would change my way of living, for I had become resolute to make the best out of my life for you.

1 - Only for you, one-year-old Abril. After flashing back to the moment before you declared yourself an earthling from 2014, you have decided to take me back to the year 2013. Another year, as exciting as 2012. You have learnt so much on behalf of me, walking, speaking, and loving. Let me hug you!

2 - Let me hug you again. You are two-year-old Abril again, aren’t you? How was the year 2014? Oh, I remember now! I remembered the time when the adults were so hardworking and diligent, so cheerful without those artificial inventions. Thank you, dear Abril, for giving back my memory of the past, my direction to head towards.

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And so, I gladly look back at the year 2012 from 2102, and the years in between. It is not merely the switching of the digits that I regard as worthwhile to share with you, but the philosophical messages beyond so apparently hilarious a story. I hope that you have travelled back to the mist of the past of the year 2012 with me, with an open-mind that you have somehow benefitted from hearing my contemplations and reflections.

High above us, the night sky rests. It is, indeed, tranquil, subtle, and inscrutable. This powerful scene arouses wonder and awe which invoke a sense of morality and religion in me. Coincidental? Destined? Whether the high power resides there, I do not know. Neither does this bottle of wine which sits in front of me. A sense of surrealism encompassed us, and did not fade away even after the dawn of the next morning, nor the next, and not even the following one.