In this heat Love couldn't run, he didn't even understand why he was chasing the kid. With each step he was tiring, but he pressed on. The music in his head shifted to a more staccato and the time sped up. He felt his face a little stubble was growing...

The next day love felt something different. It didn't matter if someone found him. He would be okay, he felt like that.

He suddenly felt lighter, he didn't walk out of his apartment but seemed to samba. In his head there was smooth jazz playing, accompanying his walk and his normal...

Love in some attempt to be normal, would try to keep a routine. He opened a small bank account here not to attract suspicion. If someone asked where he got the money he deposited enough every two weeks to look like he had a job. A painter he told them....

Marc was still suspicious about the letter, he had it with him in his pocket. Hoping that that would draw him closer to who ever wrote it. He wished it was Denver, but a part of him was sure it was someone who knew them both. He was thinking about...

When Love woke up he checked his calendar he felt like he had been gone for months. Like a person in a coma he was confused. Why was he here? In this place alone, when he had the church a sanctuary separate from reality. He moved the papers on the...

Love arrived at the motel. The manager didn't even glance up when he requested his room, its vacant still. Great, yeah, cash is fine sure. Appreciate it. Marc walked up the stairs there was a certain smell to gas city that he was surrounded by now, a mixture of heat...

Marc shifted his weight in his cot. He had been awake since 4am, now the first sign of light. Was trickling through the stain glass windows. He for the past 6 months felt good when he woke up, like he was part of these walls. He cleaned the glass, he...

Today im writing about ice cream. I decided this when I sat down to write, with a bowl next to me. Its delicious and chocolaty and everything it should be. It's also slowly melting.

I've been asking people a lot lately about ice cream, I feel like there is something weird...

There was another guy important in all this. He was in the bar with Dave. It wasn't Lenny's creator, the mad writer slowly drifting into obscurity. Nor was it Dave. It was the bartender. His friends called him Pete. For a long time he worked in a small town bar....

Dave arrived at the hotel, it was old. Carpet on the floor of the entrance and it was thick. His high had worn off, and he was less hungry. Now he was focused. The hotel was Italian themed. The note said to meet this guy down here. Order an espresso...