Port Townsend

In the little island hamlet of Port Townsend, everything moves slower and faster, which means it moves at normal speed, with a dreamlike precision.

Certain friends—like the ones I’m staying with—challenge you with an abundance of love. An abundance of hopes for you. A cloud, of a sort, they steered close for you to climb on. And it can be hard, letting go of your weight.

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The author

Writing since 1995, designing since 2000, and shooting since 2014.

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