I feel it in my fingers

The Nanjing Metro consisting of a single line would be best described as cozy and neat. I got on at 鼓楼 and the subway train had a fragrant flower scent, ester-like if you will. But then I got out at 玄武 to find the lake of the same name. That station smelled faintly of ethyl acetate, or your common nail-polish remover. Once I was out on the street I was able to find the lake when I saw the old city walls and wandered in that direction. The lake was huge and a smooth wind made small turmoil in the opaque waters. People all around were hanging in hammocks, flying kites, saving their children from teenagers zooming by on mopeds, and peddlers here and there selling peculiar treats like taffy animals on sticks. I spun an arrow and it landed on a picture of a phoenix so that is what the man made me. Too much sugar though. I wandered around some more, watching the smog-cloaked sun slowly set behind the old city wall as dragonflies and cicadas hummed about.
When I left I walked all the way back to my dormitory which was suitably far away for my tired legs. All this way without a map in a city I am still quite unfamiliar with. At any rate, I stopped by a small hole-in-the-wall restaurant, went in sat down and ordered. And I spoke for a time with the owner, the conversation conducted entirely in Chinese which made me feel good and confident about my oral and listening skills after that bitch of a placement test I took this morning. He could tell I was 混血儿 and he asked me why I am paying to study here when I could just speak with my dad.