Chinatown (L.A.)

      Today, I couldn't find an ATM machine that worked.  I took the bus up the hill.  I found the big Starbucks.  I walked a few blocks, through Chinatown, to find an ATM machine.  A corner bodega had one.  They didn't sell Winston cigarettes.  I had to buy Camels, again.  The sidewalk shops had some potted plants that looked extraordinarily beautiful, in the sunshine.  On the street,  I said that my name was Jenny Miller, kidnapped for forty years, whereabouts known and aided by "your Country."  It didn't come out very nice.  Am I afraid to say the name "China" now?  God, help me!  I'm covered in kidnappers that control me, and, human traffic me.  We have to keep them away from children.  We will protect children!

     All recovery attempts have failed.  The Allied Security rent-a-cop harassed, and, threatened me, again, when I waited for cars to reach me, in front of Union Station, this morning.  Chinatown is uphill.  By relay, I heard my mom going to buy plants, for our rented condo, in L.A.  The Army teams attempting to recover me are held down.  I'm held up.  Sam Hithye is still with me, en cloak.  I'm stretching my pants, to bursting.  I look so huge, mean, and, angry.  I'm humiliated.  I keep making stupid faces, and, licking my lips.