Lips Like Sugar, Face Rock, Thai Thai, Afternoon Delight, Station Agent, Uncle Doug's bbq, halibut from heaven, topless in the morning sun, couch gift.
Wai Ching silk dress, Rent, Heathman sazerac and creme bulee.
Paw prints on the towel rack under the bathroom window, NYC Library lions, retaining wall catwalk, mothhunter.
Kayak paddles dipping in the dark water, powering around another bend, Grape Propel, turkey wrap on Goat Island, ferry keys for teenage girls, West Linn boat ramp.
The original great room, creaky floors, crab cocktail, dark sea foam from Bruce's Candy Kitchen, late night card games, Falcon Cove spread below, sword ferns, lower branches casualties of Pacific ferocity.
Mountain goat path, frayed rope, promise of surf and sea life.
Stepping through the rocks, green anemones peeking out through the tidal pools, salty broth, edge of the infinite.
Dining room table dessert, glass cocoon hanging above the waves, pages turning in the quiet.
KJ galloping madly through the surf, trio of Japanese middle aged men with 20 foot fishing poles, around the cape from Short Sands.
Bread & Ink coconut-melon soup, visiting professor gypsy life, hula meets ballroom, sorting out the wreckage, LC/DAT alumni.
Silky perfume, mantle stage, soaker hose, thorn in the skin, Portland fruit.
from my lawyer friend, rob:
09:10 AM
"I don't think justice is blind, but it's a little hard of hearing, has a limp, and certain hidden prejudices."
