2001-09-28 - 4:49 p.m.
signs for gas masks, the kind where you tear off a slip at the bottom and most were gone, a smashed jewelry store window, the old lady with frizzled permed hair white powder face and clown-like rouge. all signs of weirdness i don't understand
and tonight i find out about something hoped for, fingers crossed so tight that i don't dare jinx it by writing about it now. soon she said.
