Jem: Moments of Stars [EDITED]

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Chapter 26

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Chapter 26

Moments of Stars

Jem

Our trip dredged on in mud with cleats in a series of impromptu booked tours to sightseeing places, ventures to the local marketplaces (chaperoned and highly supervised; after that 'getting lost for a night' gimmick we pulled, there was no way Lula would let us out of her sight- even if it was just a detour to the toilet, thus resulting in some very awkward and humiliation-inducing situations for some of us) and eating the local delicacies at questionable street side vendors.

It was Wednesday night when Lula finally entrusted Ellis and me to be on our own once again, by making us swear and promise and performed a whole bloody sacrifice ritual fifty times that we have our cell phones so we could call her and inform her of our whereabouts. Though I deemed it to be slightly dramatic, it was nice somebody was so concern about us. We all went to this place call Wangfujing, which was according to Ellis was a night market and a renowned row of Chinese snack street food.

My stomach growled, striking me with vengeance for gurgling down the far too little of the Peking duck lunch we had. Ellis adorned a fashionable navy blue sundress with a pattern of sunflowers, some flats and her leather knapsack, her ancient bronze wristwatch reflecting the redness of the sunlight spilling messily over the grey clouds as it descended into the other side of the globe. Our minds were refreshed with the search for food and the delight of enjoying it, no longer gripped by the effects of jet-lag and officially immersed in China's time zone. People dotted throughout the whole concrete jungle in the flow's chase. Even though the square was densely populated with people of all kinds, dressed differently, spoke different languages, here for a variety of reasons, they all moved in slightly the same direction and slightly the same way. Their mannerisms vocalised each other. It was both unnerving and fascinating to spot how alike and unique each individual was.

"Over here," ushered Ellis, bestowing me a rare excited smile. She looked tired, worn out, but a good type of tired, a good type of worn out. She led me over to the fervent knot of amazed and gobsmacked Australian tourists surrounding a vendor, selling fried grasshoppers on a stick. They looked around the age of nineteen, a group of friends on a backpacking trip before college semester started. "Holy shit," a blonde one said after the vendor had handed him a stick for an exchange of some money. The blonde boy waved the flailing crispy grasshopper in front of his face as if expecting it to come to life. He took a hesitant bite out of its head, crunching its eyes, brains and overall antenna head inside its mouth.

"That looks awesome!" I grasped her wrist, over her watch, a layer away from her skin, just one old leathery layer, "I want to try!"

Ellis grimaced, wrinkling her nose as the boy chomps through the crispy shells of the grasshopper and avoided gagging. "Ew. No. Gross."

"You're Chinese."

"So?" her tone vaguely replied racist much?

"Please." I pouted, putting all efforts into my puppy-dog face.

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