But it’s the tattoo that holds him. It runs from her wrist up her right arm, covering it wholly, and disappears into the shoulder of the dress, a complicated design in fresh, bright colors he cannot make out in a single glance. — Numéro Cinq
"Portland" is a short story about an architect, and an odd one. While set in Portland, Boullée's Cenotaph for Sir Isaac Newton is visited, along with an elaborate tattoo. Another excerpt:
He is—or was—an architect for a large firm with a reputation in San Jose that has had several scores with the tech industry. He entered work with goals and with passion, but those dissipated over the years in the long hours, the manic schedules, the endless compromises, the suspicions, the not talking among his superiors and colleagues beneath the veneer of the firm’s professed creative community. He wasn’t especially proud of anything he did nor felt he made any dent in the architecture there, construction that looked forward without looking at anything, buildings without identity or architectural distinction. Above, beyond, or somewhere, the invisible spirit of Silicon Valley, its ceaseless wonder.
3 Comments
Another good work Gary!
Would this story be substantially different if the protagonist was a financial manager, a metallurgist, a writer, a custom car shop owner?
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