Green Glass Pig

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It was my father’s and sat on his bureau for as long as I can remember. He liked because it reminded him of the Porcellian Club and because it once held some sort of alcoholic beverage.

My dad was generally a nice guy and always an elegant dresser. A conflicted man who had a very hard time leaving the destructive sanctuary of his family.

When I looked at the little pig this morning lit by the sun through the frost on our window, I remembered my long dead father in a pleasant way.

Published by

JohnAmes

Bowtie Wearer With Bad Knees I spent my early years in Massachusetts in a little town called Easton. I went to Harvard, served in the Navy as Operations Officer on and LST, founded a construction company and served in the state Legislature as Assistant Minority Leader. However my life really began when I moved to Maine and opened an art gallery. I've been around the fine arts in the commercial art business for over 25 years now and loved (almost) every minute of it. I look at every day is a gift, except when it's very cold outside or I have to go to the dentist.

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