What a place, huh?
Last night, I zig-zagged the downtown streets on foot, taking in the sights and sounds of Stumptown. Seattle may be my first love – but I have a warm, fuzzy fondness for her hippie kid sister.
Eventually, I wandered into Powell’s Books (how could I not?), and spent way, way too much time browsing the endless aisles. When I’m in a bookstore, I feel a mixture of buoyant possibility (all of these stories are just waiting to be read), and frantic panic (but there’s not enough tiiiiime!). If I could, I would hold each story in my hands like a cloud, and wring it out like the rain.
When I returned to the hotel from my walk, the doorman greeted me, “Welcome back, Ms. Parsons.” And when the elevator doors slid shut, enclosing me in privacy for my ride up to a room with floor-to-ceiling drapes and a king-sized bed, I grinned out loud.