Seattle Blues

It's a grey cold morning here in Seattle. In the side alley below my apartment window a cop is sitting in his cruiser waiting to pull over speeders. A couple of weeks ago there was a minor incident on the road outside involving two cars. It seemed no more than scraped paintwork but the entire Bellevue police department showed up for it.

What can I tell you about Seattle? Well nothing 'cause we live in Bellevue. Bellevue is a satellite city. There are modern office buildings and landscaped terraces.

Our days here consist of constantly heading to Safeway and searching the shelves for specials; days spent in the library to escape the noise of the construction that surrounds the hotel on three sides and the days when we take a bus to see the sights.

We're neither tourists nor locals. I'm a job seeker but also a traveller. I'm neither an illegal nor a resident or are they the same thing? I don't have a green card but my passport now has a document stapled to it that says I can work here - I even have a social security number now.

The cop car is gone. Time for breakfast.