They sat on the curb, their knees knocking against one another, their bellies warm from fried food. O licked her fingers. She reached over and poked Q on his cheek.
Q shot her a glance as he shoved a few pieces of fried sweet potato and onion into his mouth. He chewed slowly, then, “So, are you ready to go?”
O shook her head. “Definitely not, we just got here.”