Library

It was cold outside.

The bike felt small and kinda weaved side to side as I pedaled to the stop sign on Hensley and Cheyenne. Sometimes you feel like everybody is staring at you, like I did then. It's because, when I get dressed up warmly, I have no choice but to look like I came straight from the belly of Portland except for piercings.

There was a white lining of frost on every clump of dirt and every leaf.

Here is the library, with a big row of glass windows reaching to the tall, comfortably lighted ceiling and half covered with some kind of weighted curtain like they have at the Trader Joe's downtown Vancouver, and with a bike-tie-thing that is shaped like a bike. It's full of people, books, nooks and crannies, wifi and plug-in-places and there's always a mother talking to her child at the end of the library near the entrance. The only thing it doesn't have is a buffalo.

Today we'll be getting some plumbing done! Yes!

The End