Walking in Portland
I saw a woman in her late 20s or early 30s walking, holding a baby. She seemed like a single mother, perhaps because of her tight black cotton clothing and vintage looking leather boots. She walked with an older man in his 60s. I thought they were father and daughter and grandchild.
There was something about how the man carried himself that made me think he believed he was a pillar in a less than desirable reality. I imagined he wished someone else were the strength that completed this little family. But if I were the old man, I would be happy to have my daughter and grandchild all to myself.
There was something about how the man carried himself that made me think he believed he was a pillar in a less than desirable reality. I imagined he wished someone else were the strength that completed this little family. But if I were the old man, I would be happy to have my daughter and grandchild all to myself.