The Vending Machine

The vending machine stood quietly in a dark avenue on the side of the street.

The brick walls were old and stained; under the fading dusk, they appeared extra dirty. Pipes jutted from the walls like twisted snakes. Liquids leaked from the opening, as if it were trying to spit venom on your shoes.
The vending machine was tucked conveniently out of sight behind the wall, playing hide and seek with the pedestrians.  

Lucian came across it while trying to find his cat. 

The vending machine looked new, unharmed, and oddly pristine, quite unlike the rest of the wall that it – still sort of blended into. The glass of the machine was well polished and reflected the evening sunlight. Lucian paused and turned to observe his reflection. The glass showed him a teenage boy, slender, red in the face. Lucian walked closer. 

The fringes are getting a bit long, he thought. He glanced at the contents of the vending machine, hoping to grab a quick bite before he continued to search for his cat. 

Inside were five rows and eight columns of tin cans. The cans were color-coded and held different shapes and sizes. But apart from that, they looked identical. None of the cans had writing, just abstract symbols that looked like doodles from a child’s art book. On the side, the buttons were labeled with similar symbols — triangles, clouds, squiggly lines, a sad face with too many eyes.

Lucian fished a coin from his pocket and dropped it into the slot.
The machine buzzed faintly, slowly coming to life. He pressed a button marked with a strange, cat-shaped doodle.

CLUNK. 

A tin can rolled out. 

The can was small and round. The cover was brown, with the same yellow cat symbol printed on it. 

There was no pull tab, so he opened it with his house key.
A soft, grassy breeze drifted out. It smelled like sun-warmed sheets and new grass.

Lucian felt oddly calm. His mind traced back to –
Lying in the backyard on a warm day, Whiskers curled up on his chest, both of them watching clouds become ships.

There were a few leftover cat treats in the tin. 

Lucian blinked. Then inserted another coin.

CLUNK. A blue can with a seashell in bold ink. Lucian opened it.

He suddenly felt sad. His mind traced back to –
A thunderstorm, waves drummed on the sand violently, like fighters chanting a war cry. He saw a ship on the distant horizon, it was hard to look through the fog, but the lights of the ship soon faded, along with the drowning sounds of the storm. 

Lucian jerked out of his trance. He looked into the can. He found a wilted blue rose. Although broken and withered, it was surprisingly beautiful. Lucian dug in his pockets once more, and found a stray coin covered in cookie crumbs, at the very bottom of the fabric. He slid the last, oily coin into the slot and pressed the button. 

CLUNK. 

A red can, with nothing more than crayon scribbles as the symbol. It felt warm to the touch, like a pot of hot stew on a winter’s day. 

Lucian cautiously opened the can. 

A smell escaped. The smell of something familiar –

His mother’s curry paste, the food he had loved since he started having memories. The food that cured all kinds of his sickness in an instant. 

Lucian looked into the can. 

There was nothing left to give. 

—

Lucian found Whiskers curled up in the remains of what appeared to once be a courtyard.

The last remnants of sunlight poured through the broken windows, casting long, golden shadows on the natural shapes. Flowers bloomed through the cracks in the concrete, and moss was spread over the marble walls. 

Lucian sat against an empty window frame.
The cat blinked, stretched, and scratched its ears in his lap.

Sunset soaked their clothes and illuminated their figures. 

Writer – Cynthia Zheng
Editor – Kenneth Gong
Artist – Grace Ye

–June 2025–