January 15, Fated

I rode the bus to immigration to pick up a document then wandered until I stumbled upon China Town and then Freshman.

“Oh! Abigail! Is that you?”

How random, how fateful to come across my roommate in the afternoon outside of China Town. I joined her on her mission to find a dumpling restaurant and we conquered three wicker baskets in the single room restaurant.

Neighboring China Town was a gaudily appointed Texas Street. We hopped over the imaginary line.

“We’re in Texas, now!”

The feel was different: all the stores were closed except for Russian souvenir shops and garbage rolled across the street like a tumbleweed. Not even the fake cowboy statues could rescue the dingy atmosphere.

Maybe it wasn’t so far off from a ghost town.

We made it through Texas Street without any duels, from cowboys or the hardened-looking pawn shop owners. All the while we couldn’t stop exclaiming that destiny had brought us together.

Well, destiny or dumplings.

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