Tuesday, December 13, 2005

Portland

He is here, and it is raining. It is Portland. He begins sadly with his protrusile lips to tell me about his yesterday, (in the rain, it is the saddest time to tell a story of a life); on these moist days he will look at me, indicate the dark sky and say, “We need oxygen to breathe. But only when you think about it.”

4 comments:

saurav said...

Yeah ! I agree with you there. I hate the moist days too...

May Peace
Hope and Love
be with you
Today
Tomorrow
and Always

Merry Christmas!

BTW : I have blogrolled you. Hope you dont mind.

Enemy of the Republic said...

Well, I'm glad you are blogging again. I don't know Portland at all. I really wish you well. Keep posting, friend. By the way, do you want to join my other blog--we need good writers. Email me.

"ME" Liz Strauss said...

Hi Lane,
I love the understatement in this one. I think you are collecting characters.

B.S. said...

I always used to think I'd love Portland, but after reading this, I'm not so sure about those moist days....