21 December 2020 – Portland
Tumbled out of the apartment building, only to find myself in the neighborhood where I have lived, on and off, for perhaps ten years.1 The neighbors pass, masked, some with their dogs and others circumspect, head bowed against the mizzle. It is the solstice, and there’s little I’d like more than to hibernate a while, but today’s the day for heading to the post office through the rain and editing papers from foreign places and all of life’s other stores and stories. Thus much and watching the score of years – sufficient in itself.
- Perhaps more, perhaps less: it depends on how you want to count – I am not particular. [↩]