26.09.05 - 1:22 p.m.
as silly and unlikely as it was, i hoped last night that we'd run into you if only in passing when walking from casa to the ranch room. we walked fast, hands in pockets, shoulders to ears, noting the presence of yellow leaves on the sidewalks, talking about kate and graham's poetry reading where i know you were because you gave anna a ride home. lately, while driving up chestnut, i am making concerted efforts not to look at your house lest you be outside and see me looking. why i suddenly care what you think again is beyond me, but it (along with the first signs of autumn, friends' free shift meals, and the older gentleman who plays the harmonica on 12th street) has bellingham feeling like home again.