My old hippie van crapped out on me in San Francisco, of all places, but his laundry truck has served me well. I have spent quite a few nights wondering about Mr Wong and how long he must have saved up to buy this truck. How important his business of keeping clothes clean must have been to him. I would say he is turning over in his grave at what my shirt looks like behind the wheel of his truck but lets face it, he’s not in one.

It’s been three months since I was last in Arklay but who is counting anymore. One glorious side effect of the outbreak is the slow passing or mash up of time. Or maybe just an apathy for it. Or maybe its the weed. Who the fuck knows. I haven’t seen anyone around yet but I’m claiming an empty store and unloading. If someone doesn’t like it, they can talk to my gun or have a joint. Most people choose the latter.