urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:thelasttracethelasttracethelasttracethelasttrace2008-03-15T03:03:34Zurn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:thelasttrace:5880012008-03-15T03:03:34Z2008-03-15T03:03:34ZTrace sighed as he looked around his apartment, boxes still unpacked were placed all over the floor. He really need to be unpacking, but he also REALLY needed to find a job. Trace laughed as he locked the door of his apartment, the cat lady that lived down the hall was talking to her cats again. He lit up a cigerette as he huridly walked down the stairs, three flights up he lived, and not one person had made said friendly conversation that he was expecting here in Chicago.<br /><br />Trace took a long drag from his cigerette as he walked down the street, he passed a pet shop, but washing other peoples dogs really wasn't his thing. But music was, Trace spotted a record store across the street. Not thinking Trace ran across the road ignoring the horns coming from the cars of the angrey drivers. "Geez I thought road rage was a LA thing." Trace chuckled to himself as he entered the small record store.<br /><br />[AIM=DontLeaveATrace]