The Passenger (excerpt one)

The Passenger is the story of an explorer who finds himself in a strange, new world that he must adapt to and make his home. After a series of struggles, he triumphs, even gets the girl. The alien landscape our hero finds himself in is Portland, Oregon, 2013; the protaginist is me. The Passenger is available on Amazon (link below) and this is the first excerpt I will be sharing:

At half past two, I walked over to Hawthorne and waited for the next bus across the river.  A man sitting in his car across the street rolled down his window and spit into the road. A beautiful young woman walked up and stood next to the shelter. She looked like a Portland version of Veronica Lake and her lipstick was perfect, red as blood when it escapes a wound.

The 14 was crowded all the way down the aisle.  We rode it across the calm river and the tires made the bridge plates hum. I disembarked near Pioneer Square and walked down Sixth Avenue. My boots drummed the cement as I passed a celebration of bad sculpture and a shoelace masquerading as a worm. I found the bus stop I was looking for but the line didn't operate on Saturdays; I tore up my plans and walked on. Crossing into the Pearl District I covered block after block with the gray afternoon wrapped around me. There were gorgeous old buildings to look up at that had been built by men that time had turned into ghosts. I imagined them watching passersby through the leaded glass windows and thought of the girl who looked like Veronica Lake in a flannel shirt. Where had she ended up? Why had she looked so sad? Knowing we would never cross paths again I put her out of my mind and walked on.

My revised plan was to end up in the basement bar of the Hotel Glass but it seemed too early to be drinking beer---especially at my new workplace. Hungry and broke, I stopped in the McDonalds up Burnside; the only Mickey D's between the Pearl and Trendy-Third, it seemed to be a refuge for all the homeless people in the area. The guy in front of me was only in his mid-twenties but on the path to death. He was either drunk or really stoned and struggling through his order. I got my cheeseburger and walked until the crowds fell away and I was alone. Pulling the burger out of the bag, I stared at a parking lot that was once one of the most beautiful homes in Portland as I ate.

It still felt too early to stop by the bar but I needed a bathroom so I went into Powell’s. The restroom was full so I browsed the medical section and found a fascinating book on the history of opium. Still needing a bathroom, I left the bookstore and walked up eleventh; I must have walked a mile just killing time. Deciding that four would be an okay time to get a beer, I went back to the hotel bar only to order ice tea. The bathroom had these funky old urinals that had been around since the days of Al Capone. I closed my eyes and tried to time slip but got nowhere.

You can find The Passenger here:

https://www.amazon.com/Passenger-Izaak-David-Diggs/dp/173454287X