Things We Don't Do Since 2003
- Peter K F Cheung SBS
- 21 hours ago
- 3 min read
Act 1
INT. MALL - 17:30
PETER and his WIFE walk past a sleek podium display a fleet of Electric Vehicles (EVs). His wife pauses, her gaze settling on a compact, futuristic hatchback.
WIFE: This one has got clean lines. I might come back tomorrow.
Peter stops. Looks at her, then at the car, then back to her.
PETER: Come back? To look?
WIFE: To look properly.
PETER: On a scale - zero to ten. What's the number.
WIFE: Six.
PETER. A six. That's not window-shop six. That's a...we-need-to-discuss-six.
Peter looks past the EVs, seeing something else.
PETER (V.O.): The last time we wandered into a car show was in 2003 when I bought the sixth one - the SMART City Coupe.
Then, he looks at the electric hatchback again.
Act 2
EXT. VICTORIA PARK - 18:30
The Hong Kong Flower Show 2026. Lanterns, orchids, the mumur of crowds.
Peter and his wife stand before a display of tulips. Peter's gaze is distant.
PETER (V.O.): I'm thinking about my wife's idea to buy an EV.
Pausing.
PETER (V.O.) (Cont'd): I'm also thinking about 2003. The year we stopped.
Pausing.
PETER (V.O.) (Cont'd): I thought if I stopped buying, I stopped becoming. That the next car was always the next version of me.
Pausing.
PETER (V.O.) (Cont'd): Each one has a difference. The Nissan 200SX has retractable headlamps. The Eunos 30X has a V6 engine. The Toyota Previa has eight seats. The New Beetle looks cute. The Mercedes is a seden. The SMART City-coupe is a piece of moving art.
Recalling.
PETER (V.O.) (Cont'd): My wife said six was enough. A fleet. A rotation.
Pausing.
PETER (V.O.) (Cont'd): And I agreed.
Pausing.
PETER (V.O.) (Cont'd): My wife drove the silver bullet-like Eunos until she got her cyber-green New Beetle.
Pausing.
PETER (Cont'd): I drive the Nissan 200SX as it's a manual. We use the Toyota Previa a lot for its practicality. The SMART City-coupe isn't the easiest to drive, and the Mercedes is seldom used.
Pausing.
PETER (V.O.) (Cont'd): Now I realize that the years we didn't buy any car from 2003 were the years we actually lived.
Peter takes his wife's hand.
PETER: You may buy a new EV even though the Eunos has to be scraped.
Pausing.
WIFE: We don't drive the Eunos anymore.
Peter doesn't say a word.
PETER (V.O.): It's true. I just start its engine occasionally.
EXT. GLOUSTER ROAD - 19:00
The neon signs of Causeway fade. Peter and his wife walk hand-in-hand along Glouster Road, past a string of car showrooms glowing behind glass.
They stop at the first showroom. Two EVs. Neither speaks.
Then they move to the next. And the next.
At the fourth showroom, his wife stops.
PETER (V.O.): In 2003, walking into a showroom felt like possibility. In 2026, standing outside one feels like memory.
They enter. Soon, a SALESMAN appears.
SALESMAN: We've just closed...urh...anything I can help?
WIFE: Not really...
PETER (V.O.): I believe my wife has another brand in mind.
Peter and his wife exit. They walk towards a MTR station. The lights of Glouster Road blur into the night.
Act 3
EXT. MTR TRAIN - 20:00
Crowded. Peter gazes at his wife.
PETER (V.O.): We didn't stop cars-shopping because we lost desire; we stopped because we finally had enough answers to "Who are we?" Since 2003, we lived those answers instead of continuing to search.
Thinking.
PETER (V.O.) (Cont'd): There're things we don't do since 2003 - not out of regret, but out of contentment that mistook itself for a habit. Tonight we learned that some rituals aren't abandoned. They're just waiting for the right reason to be remembered.
Reflecting.
PETER (V.O.) (Cont'd): We spent 23 years without stepping into a car showroom together. That absence wasn't empty - it was a full life that didn't need a new purchase to show progress. Now, we're different people. That's the point: we let ourselves start over, and leave behind who we'd become.
The END
FADE OUT
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