03.29.04 :: 4:26 pm


Went to the supermarket on Sunday for lack of anything better to do, and to keep my mind busy in a blank way so as not to give in to the temptation of calling him; it was so lovely outside.

While I numbly rolled my cart up and down the aisles, I felt a tap on my hip and I look down and there's a little girl, about four years old, crying.

"I lost my mommy."

I'm not completely soulless, so I abandoned my cart, took her hand and spent twenty minutes wandering C-Town in search of her mother.

We found her eventually but something about this episode just made me really, really sad.

I don't quite know what. But I needed to write it down in case it comes to me at a later date.

Maybe as I get older, the relevance of tiny sneakers becomes more obvious, and is in direct proportion to the worthlessness of all the men I've dated.

Or it could have been my hangover.

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