Irv's Honda

It's Kwan.

I've finally left Vick! Irv and I drove 480 miles last night. We're here in the desert now. Irv had some money saved. He's 38 but he looks much younger. He doesn't have hair on his chest like Vick.

Irv said I looked like my father when I showed him the family pictures from Vietnam. I held Irv's hand, the one missing the fingers, last night when I took my turn at the wheel.

I know Vick can access this blog, but he'll never find us. He probably doesn't care about us anyway.

All I've got are the jeans and shirts in my travel bag. I'm a refugee again.

You can see so many stars out here in the desert.

Is it possible to laugh and cry at the same time?

I won't say where we're staying. We thought we were being followed.

I'm so angry and so restless. How can I run for Congress when I've left my Congressional District? How can I do anything now?