Matterhorn Man
Dear Herr, out of place
Heavy green wool coat, cigar
The Matterhorn waits
Today has been the first really nice day in Portland since about October of last year—I got to wear sandals and short sleeves today. But the Matterhorn man, I don't know how he was doing it. He had on a really heavy wool coat and heavy pants, one of those hats with the spray of feathers and a cigar. He was walking ever so slowly and rolling the cigar around in his mouth. He looked like he'd been dropped out of a movie from 1942 into my neighborhood. Hopefully when I leave later I won't find him collapsed upon the sidewalk from heatstroke. Or Nazis.
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