Friday, December 3, 2010


A couple days ago I met a man in the higher class, business district. He's not like the others around here. He's a very nice older gentleman and he wears a bowler hat with his nice suit.

I guess when I'm around there I draw attention to myself even if I don't try. It's easy to see I don't belong there. I'm ratty looking compared to all the well dressed business people. A ratty girl who drags a large suit case with her as she dumpster dives for semi fresh food just doesn't fit around there.

I had just pulled a half eaten sub out of the trash (hey, it's better than what I had yesterday) when he came over to me and said "I'll buy you lunch if you're hungry."

We ate at this organic food restaurant on the waterfront and I tried not to eat like I hadn't eaten a decent meal in God knows how long in front of the hip people who obviously frequented the joint, or the man sitting across from me.

At first it was just awkward silence as we ate but then he started talking.

"Whats you're name?"
I didn't give him my real name. Instead I said, "Asha Reid." I guess I should tell you all that outside the internet, I'm not Alexa. I've changed who I am. I've changed my story when someone asks it. I'll tell all you fine readers who I am when the mood strikes me.

"Where are you from?"
"Dover." That's a lie too.

"Do you have any family?"
"I'm an orphan."

"How old are you?"

"How did you get all the way up into Wilmington?"
"I walked." Hey, the first bit of truth!

"Do you have a job?"
I felt like rolling my eyes and saying what do you think ?"I dropped out of school in 5th grade. No one is willing to give me a job."

"You speak very well for someone who didn't even attend high school."
"Well I've been hanging around the business section for a couple years now. I guess I just picked up proper grammar from hearing all you high class business folks speak."

We went on to talk about other things.

At the end of lunch I was given an offer to stay with him for a while. I took him up on that offer.

Yeah, at first I thought "Dear God, please don't let him be a psycho serial killer/rapist or just some sick old man out looking for an easy lay." But he's not like that at all. He's a real gentleman. He lives in a nice little condo thing on the other side of the waterfront.

I have my own room and my clothes are now clean as is my body since I had my first shower in I can't remember how long. And I'm warm. It's so nice and warm in here.

But I know it won't last. It didn't last with the family. I wonder if maybe I should tell him about the demon.


  1. I say do it, if you don't he might think you're crazy... and that wouldn't be good :(