She veers the car to the left, in the direction of the tiny sparks dotting the horizon. As they travel along the road, the sun descends, and the tiny sparks turn into gigantic lanterns devouring the inky blackness of the night. Her eyes are fixed on the lights, the bright red and intense yellow glimmering like sunshine. Her foot tenses on the pedal, and like a bug attracted to the light, she zips off in its direction.
She's always hungered for this, you know. She acutely remembers the dimness of her home town, the sunlight of the town being filtered by the grey, smoggy clouds overhead, covering everything in a depressing luminescence. When the sun wearily sinked into the earth, the stars of the night would be oppressed by the collective regurgitation of the factories in the area, and her home would be encompassed by an absolute darkness. She remembers the street lights that came on in the night, and as a kid she recalls how lonely and pitiful they looked, trying to illuminate a place where you couldn't see your hand in front of you. So she ambled about blindly until she found him, and so they struggled together.
And just like that she's brought back to reality. He yells at her to slow down, banging on the trunk bed, as they both notice how much closer they've gotten to the vicinity of their destination; here is where they'll stay the night. This town is unique among many, and they drink its image in. They point out it's elaborate architecture, its towers they recall seeing within books detailing the mysticism of the far, far east. They see the source of the light: between each towering structure lies a string of lanterns, thousands upon thousands composing the red and yellow they saw so far away. Both girl and boy are in awe, and continue to stare in awe.
The smells of curries and foreign spices resonate within their hearts, calling to their ancestors. They feel a sense of kinship here. They can see their old, wizened grandmothers along the city roads, the wrappers of meat buns they had engorged up lining the gutters, and the games they played as children happening on the streets. Everything seemed so familiar to them in this utterly foreign town.
She brushed aside her long black hair, pulling it into a pony tail. "It just seems so familiar, doesn't it Shun?"
"Fresh off the boat, Kim."
She let out a chuckle as they dived deeper into the heart of the city. Here is where they'd earn their room of the night.