The bus is crowded. It smells like vanilla and coconut oils. It is late...I am so very late.
Why do I carry a purse with me? Men don't carry purses.

I open the purse, anxiety increasing. There is nothing inside but a penis that belonged to a white man.

Very anxious now, I bring the purse up to my chin and occupy my mouth with the newly found pacifier.

I am calm now.

Had a horrible dream last night. Osama bin Laden was hiding out in my back yard. I was only visiting for a few days, and at first I though it wasn't my problem, if I didn't say or do anything he could camp out there without affecting me.

He started talking with his Al Queda associates on a mobile phone, and I became very afraid that the americans would locate him via this and shoot up the place. It occured to me that the american 'good guys' would likely just obliterate everyone in the house. Saying 'it wasn't me, I didn't know about it' is useless when talking to a squad of bloodthirty marines. Or a cruise missle. They wouldn't even get bad press for killing 'those who harboured him'.

Then an ex girlfriend arrived and I had to deal with my unresolved feelings to her. This was worse.