|
Post by CHRISTINE GUTHRIE on Jun 24, 2011 21:00:44 GMT -8
Dear Journal
Thinks seem quieter now. The street performers have moved, and the radio is broken. These are the times I wish I had a phonograph, just so I could play a record, and drown out the overbearing silence. Searching for a job has become difficult, but I remain hopeful. Maybe I'll start cleaning houses for a living.
Rent is coming up.
This is the first time I've had to pay rent. Jimmy brought in the money, not me. It's nerve racking, but I almost have enough money for rent. It's so lonely, without Jimmy. I wish he was secretly alive, but if he was, I feel as though they would have told me so.
I dreamed of when Jimmy, Vinny and I were a gang of friends. Now Vinny's a gangster and Jimmy's dead. The fear of being along is slowly creeping up on me. Hopefully it goes away as soon as possible.
-Christine
|
|