I'm riding on a bus with two of my siblings, I think Leah and Steve. I wasn't supposed to get on this bus; I was going to stay in the city and do some shopping or something, but somehow I accidentally ended up going with them.

"Well, I might as well come along," I say, "I know I didn't pay for my ride, and I would, but I can't see riding all the way back there just to pay and ride back here again." Anyway, it doesn't seem what I wanted to do was that important.

We disembark at a dark, dirty train station, full of mud and very poor people. My two companions leave me there with our stuff, which isn't much, just a couple of shirts that are now on the ground, coated in mud and grease.

A policeman comes by and starts yelling at me in a foreign language, which I can't understand at all, and pointing to the dirty clothes on the ground. I find some forked sticks nearby, poke the ends into the ground, and stretch the clothes out on them as if they were drying, and the cop goes away. But right then, some street child who was crouching nearby reaches out and grabs my food. I have two bean cakes, a doughy yellow cake with some rich filling and a few green sprinkles in the middle. The kid grabs one really fast and takes a bite of it, then when I slap at his hand, he puts it back, but before I can do anything he grabs the other one and takes a bite out of it. When I've finally escaped him, both bean cakes have bites out of them, and one other piece of food I had is gone.