Final Fixtures.

Two friends of mine, staples of the Portland community, are moving away from that city for what looks like the last time. The party they threw on their last night had this wonderful melancholy about it- smiling and drinking, a room of overworked eyes and beards flecked with gray. It felt like we were all saluting the same realization, seeing in each other the twilight of our youth, and how dearly we will miss it, the old friend.
Still idealistic, aimless and broke, nothing stopped us from becoming adults.