The Search for the Holy Girl

Thank you everyone who has been yelling at me for missing a few last week. It's appreciated, even if I grunt at you. After all, some days I am just a caveman in a grownup suit.
For all you avid readers today will disappoint you. I did write, a good hour too. I just won't post it yet because it's unfinished. I know, I post unfinished stuff, it's the way I'm doing this. But todays has holes in the middle that I really want to flesh out tomorrow, So I am holding it, because if I posted it ow and then put in the rest tomorrow it'd be ruined for you, and what fun is that?

Well, I knew I wouldn't make it a week and I was right, but that's no reason to stop. Of course I notice that when I miss one day, which I did Thursday because of long hours at work, it's really hard to write the next, which is the only reason I didn't on Friday and Monday. So here I am on Tuesday and I have to write something or I fear I may give up completely. i need to get back into it. So here's a short imagined painting I'm not skilled enough to paint.

Right-arm crooked through the giant red letter O. It's late at night, the sky black, but lit by city lights and the large letters on top of the building. We see only the bottom two-thirds of the letter O and parts of each letter to the left and right, however unrecognizable. The man leans on the O, head looking down at his feet. His face covered by hair, shaggy, but not long. Slung across his back is a dark-colored 1976 fender mustang guitar. His jeans and white t-shirt partly illuminated by the light of the O.