My stomach protests its emptiness so I dig into the box of Graham crackers sitting on my lap. They do the job at filling the void in my belly but aren’t very satisfying so I snatch my pants off the floor and extract my wallet from it. While counting my money for a McDonald’s strawberry milkshake run, I realize ID is gone. I left it at the library with the clerk when I singed up for Internet time on the public PC. I eat a cracker while I slip on my sneakers, pull a hoodie over my head, then head out the door and back to the library before it closes.

A half-veiled moon casts its glow upon Hollywood Boulevard. The street teems with partiers, street performers, booths, and tourists dressed in costumes. Pinocchio makes out with a naughty nurse in a doorstep. A different song blares on sound systems set up every other block. Sparkle sticks flash and fizzle. I jostle past an overweight family (dressed in normal clothes) as the father buys sweet smelling street meats and sausages that sizzle and pop on a vendor’s gas powered push cart. Popcorn, tickets, and confetti litter the street. Three kids dressed in glow-in-the-dark skeleton costumes skateboard tandem up and down a halfpipe; two loft back-to-back McTwist on the near face and the other skater floats a stale fish on the other; the crowd erupts in cheers. They knee slide down the walls I recognize Steve Caballero, Mark Gonzales, and Tommy Guerrero. I turn down Ivar street and walk the two blocks to the library.