it's been two weeks since i've returned from boston. yes, i had clam chowder, eaten in an irish pub. red bricks and granite slab paving stones line the streets, their inclination is opposition, though only ninety degrees apart. i shook the hand of the man who hand made my italian salamis. these were smuggled back to l.a. in my carry on bag.
i stood in my friend's wedding as a groomsman, a privilege i'll not soon forget. the groom, happier than i've ever seen; living and drinking with the guy for years in l.a., i know. the bride was beautiful, a hellene in white. i took photographs after the ceremony. many. i danced and i sweated, i drank greek wine and i smiled. it will be some time before i see them again, or boston. not enough bourbon or wine; more cobblestone streets to walk. new friends to remember; some i'll never see again.
word count: 154
No comments:
Post a Comment