2003-11-25 - 10:47 a.m.

We met a drunk man in front of seven-eleven. He told us that he had no family. He told us that he had family. He told us that all he had was his dog. Then, he told us about his sister. He talked about his garden and his dog and lucky rolls of change and getting a new hat and how lonely it is to live where he does, on the border between the Mojave Desert and Death Valley. He had been hitchiking around Nevada until he got in the wrong car and it crashedHe told us about renagades from L.A. He called me "Little Sister," and it reminded me of A Clockwork Orange.