THE DAILY ASSIGNATION: Day 43 "Secret Observations on the Goat-Girl"

Scribble all the thoughts you have in a journal -- Where did all the people go? -- otherwise it'll all be lost -- 80-90 percent chance Jamie's dead. Deadsies. -- sadly, no one can read the thoughts written out -- El. doesnt mourn anything, atleast today. Today shes out shopping in Rococo, the Pecan Flavored City. -- on the wall you painted -- So many come to Rococo, few rarely leave, and if they do, they always come back. -- behind your hole-in-the-head corpse -- I have, and always will be worthless. -- No amount of New Wave beats will shake the shadow from your root. Yer fucked, accept it, move on, deal. -- She's looking for a gift, this was the best place to look for it. There's so much to find in the dark corner's of Rococian stores. Antique malls that smell of old dissipating cologne and dead grandparents. She took a big whiff when she walked in. It gave her the slightest head rush. -- 'Oh it's beautiful! Beautiful!' -- Nothing says happy birthday like a dead 70-y/o's jewelry hocked by her great-grandkids. -- Jesus. Jesus. ...Jesus...... -- Up stairs, 'This place has an up-stairs?', 'I know, right!', it's cozy. Mostly furniture, an old couch, bunch of chairs, a quite nice poker table. There was a window laced with spider web cracks. It over looked the street. El. took a look (nothing in the attic-up-stairs appealed to her shopping list). There was hobo down there, or a man who just looked like a hobo (you can never tell here), sitting on the curb drinking....something. He had a huge puff of hair coated in dirt, grim, sweat, filth; a leather shirt that was baggy, his pants were dark with stain. He was looking across the street as he drank, staring at the park. His hands were callus, or so she thought. They seem like why should be. I wonder what his face looks like, she thought. She wanted him to turn around, too look up at her, and smile. She wanted to see his round face, to see those sharp eyes hidden in the hollows of his head, that broad flat nose, that toothy smile. She wanted nothing more to catch a glance at the man's beautiful face. 'Ooo! El look! They have some old books,' called Mel. El ignored her. She rushed down stairs, 'I'll be right back,' 'K!,' and out the door. But the man was gone. Gone.