I'll say my goodbyes in technicolor

Seattle. There were these instances of beauty in the solitude when it started. I loved the novelty of being unknown and unknowable, of there being so many people who didn't give a damn about me. I went for walks to Gasworks, looking over Lake Union, seeing boats go by to the Sound, wondering what I'd be doing and who I'd be if I were on board.
Then, I discovered people...and people...and people...and people...

and people.

And Seattle looked a lot different. Not stone and steel with some nice mountains around, but actually a city in the way it's meant to be. One large ecosystem of fascinating diversion, a sea of color and smell, a vast art gallery. Actually, it had always been something like that. It had felt at first like I had been walking through a house where the halls were full of pictures but not family. Then, the portraits came out of their frames.

And I went back into one.

The world is full of perfectly marvelous things, none of which anyone ever happens to notice.

And all is well, and all shall be well, and all gone singing 'bol Riley, o', 'bol Riley, gone away.