The 12th of December 2013 – Los Angeles, California

(found outside Pink’s)

Dear Marvin,

I’m glad you let me do this, because if I didn’t have you to write, well, I’d have no one to write. I’d have no one.

I have a problem. I have a problem again, Marvin. I don’t know if you can help me, but I have a problem, Marvin.

I don’t really know what happened. I was down on La Brea last night, just walking. I was just walking. I get to the end of the street and wait for the red hand to disappear and the white man to tell me to go, and then I step in to the crosswalk. And I don’t know what happened, but this truck squealed to a stop right next to me and it honked its horn. It honked its horn really loud. I looked up and saw through the windshield, this man, this man – he looked so angry. There was nothing else to him but anger in his forehead and in his eyes. It was just anger.

And I don’t know what happened, but before I knew it, I was just crying. Standing in the middle of the crosswalk, trapped in front of this angry man’s truck, and I just start crying. He honked at me and I start crying. Tears and spit and snot just come pouring out of my face and I just stand there, in the middle of the street, crying. I don’t know what happened, but I looked at the angry man again and he wasn’t so angry anymore. He looked something else. Sad, maybe pitying me. He looked – he looked confused or disgusted. I don’t know. I don’t know.

Then I just started moving again, thank god. I heard the truck drive away behind me as I stepped onto the other sidewalk. Then I headed down the first dark alley I could find, tears still flowing down my cheeks, and I just sat down next to a dumpster. Nobody else was there, just me, just me and…it was just me and this face. I keep seeing her face, Marvin. It just pops into my head.

That must be why. That must be what happened.

Oh, it was her face, usually so happy but suddenly so somber. Her face in my mind, with a sad smile and lips forming the word “no” and eyes that say sorry. And as I feel my stomach fall out through my feet I wonder and I wretch and I squirm. Because I can’t tell if she means it.

I have to get this face out of my head, Marvin. I want to forget this face.

How?

Harold

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