Three weeks has allowed me enough time to grieve over my mother.

I mean, there's only so much crying, getting angry, and laying about can accomplish. Plus I can't keep moping around my apartment as much as I have been. I need to find a better paying job or I was going to be homeless.

Now... as for getting a job? It's a bitch and a half. I can't seem to find jackspit in this city despite having pretty good reccomendations and a smile that isn't awkward as many people seem to have these days.

So that's when I found myself in the park. I was beyond frustrated with everything. With my mother dying, with her funeral, with Daniel being a new constant friend. With Rorschach seeming to follow me everywhere I go.

Oh, did I forget to mention that? I smell the everywhere I go. Even now I swear I can smell him! Like, he's right besides me or something as I attempt to eat my cheap hotdog I'd gotten from the vendor at the beginning of the park. But it's super hard when the hobo who decided to take a few seats away is making me want to wretch all over it.

I can't even take a bite. It's absolutely awful. I turn my gaze up to the sky, trying not to let out all of the obscene words I have bottled up inside to come because of some awful smelling man... with his stupid sign. Why did he always have that sign? I saw him around the city an awful lot with that stupid sign.

Head lulling to the side I decide to glare, trying not to scream at him to leave, until I have a better idea. Standing up from my spot I head over to him. I hold out the hot dog to him. It's just plain, nothing on it. Can't stomach anything acidic these days.

"Here," I shove it under his nose. "You look like you need this more than me, guy."

God he's an ugly little guy. His face is all angles, nose pushed up, and he has dirt and... other things, smudged all over his clothes. If I wasn't in such a foul mood I'd ask him if he'd like to have a bath at my place while I buy him a whole new outfit with what little money I have.

Icy blue eyes shoot up from the spot he'd been staring at blankly before taking the hotdog out of my hand with a surprisingly slow, gentle hand. Didn't fit with that angry little face.

He ends up grunting at me in response as he begins to scarf the thing down.

This causes me to snort, a grin coming to my lips. He's like a disgusting little puppy. Or a pig. A very underfed pig. "Your welcome."

And I walk away. Maybe I'd go visit Daniel today to see if I can get a job at where he works. Maybe he'll give me something a few days a week...