Festival Parking

Dreams of Glass

"Emptiness is loneliness, and loneliness is cleanliness, and cleanliness is godliness, and God is empty ... just like me."

Scrawled in a notebook, left on the floor near the foot of Kaya Sparrowhawk’s desk.

Jimmy says sometimes it’s best to just write the shit that’s bothering you out. He says that when he’s getting ticked about something, it helps him just let it go, especially if he’s baked. So let’s see how this goes. It can’t feel any worse than it usually does.

The big man was right. I don’t have the chops for it. I know how to dig up the dirt. When I’m on the computer, I get results. But he’s right. I don’t look like I fit in. Not even that, but I’m weak. Even when Red Arrow Woman helped me wrestle the pig, I couldn’t do it. No, that fucker almost beat me down. So yesterday I got a membership at the WAC and signed up for judo. I can’t just hide behind my computer. If that motherfucker comes back for me, or for anyone else, I want to be ready. And I want to be able to scare the shit out of the fucking pig.

I’m actually struggling to fight the anger, some days. It feels like it comes from nowhere. I am terrified that it’ll happen, that the wave of anger will finally catch up with me and knot my stomach until I can’t stand it anymore and I just lose it. I can’t say what I’ll do.

I can’t stand how draining it is to sit here and constantly wait. On the rare occasion that I’m not angry, I feel empty. So then I get high and forget about it all, till I come down from it. And then I’m angry again, and the world is not right, still, and it just irks me. So I’ll get smart. I’ll do Sanders’ errands, I’ll get help, and I will prevail. It’s the only way to make this go away.

Right now the team is working on a project for Veronica, which she told Gabby about. Not me, even though we already knew each other … Anyway, she needs a watch for a spook,, which we located in a pawn shop in the hood (thanks to Jimmy). Not sure what the next step is. The watch is kind of expensive. If we were obligated to shell out that much cash to set each spook to rest, there would be less Sin-Eaters that gave a shit about who was on the right side of the Lake of Death or whatever.

I’m more interested in what Sanders has for me to do. Still, I’m reluctant to tell Gabby or Lee about it. Lee’s about ready to join up with the Krewe and Gabby is getting better, but she still doesn’t understand. I admit my heart jumped when I heard that Veronica wasn’t in the Krewe … I had hoped … but then, it doesn’t matter. She wouldn’t be I don’t want to

The letter is interrupted by a mass of black scratch-outs, and the next inch or so is unreadable. It continues:

Fuck it. I need to get a job. Thinking too much is fucking with my head.



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