I was looking at a stack of maps. I was shocked to find South Africa, Ireland and France adjacent. The maps folded out in accordion folds and you could piece the world together. I unfolded the United States and looked at South Carolina. It was not a map divided into counties but showing rivers, streams and lakes. All the names they'd put on the rivers were wrong and they'd put a huge lake in near the middle of the state and just called it "Fishing Lake." They'd put a big straight river (about an inch wide on the map which would indicate 200 miles wide. They called it "Fishing River" and it started from nowhere with a waterfall. But the shape of the state was right. I'd been looking for comic books anyway--not maps. The salesman was very nice but he should have been working at Barney's and not a post card shop. I needed to find a comic book for an art project. There were 2 styles. Straight and type. The moon. Auto figures. 27 kinds of type, each fraction a figure. I needed to find a comic book because I didn't know any figures good enough to make a poster of them. There was a new Superman Comic Book about a mop made into a girl. Her hair was the mop head. I didn't want to use her. Neal Crotts accumulated ??? I was on a trip straight through the marsh. I was looking for a comic book store on Charleton St. The man had told me about the Little Rascals. They were telling them to just mix with water to make it come out. Dora cried and said for 9 years she couldn't communicate with me cause I wasn't there and now I wanted to exchange thoughts all the time. I pushed her off the path. Then I felt awful. Accusations were coming from everywhere. I had to keep going and the accusations kept coming.