Sunday, August 14, 2011

Full Moon over Seattle

The stalls are empty.  The streets slooshed down.  Fish smell lingers.  We wonder among the ghosts of the day to Michael's favorite restaurant, Maximillian's.   We sit outside under an umbrella and watch a sliver of red dissolve into dark clouds over the Olympic Peninsula.  Pikes Place Market after hours.

Long conversations interrupted by good French food.  Call me Dusty Plasma.

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