Portland, Maine, October 31st, from Collected Stories How was it that Portland seemed like a town along the sea? I couldn’t see it. I was on land. Was it the cool October breeze? The old brick and stone buildings or the small storefront art gallery with painted seascapes on its walls? Above you were opaque gray clouds. On one street was a black, iron-gated graveyard. With moss-covered granite headstones that must have held quakers, sailors and characters from the historic past. And now dusk, there were children in Halloween costumes. The next day was overcast, and it was raining. The first day of November. I found the boat dock with a view of the bay. Rain pelted the sea water, and the fall wind rocked the boats tied to the dock. Seagulls made their sound, landing on weather-worn posts. On a clear day there would be a blue sky and white clouds. The shimmer of sunlight on the sea water’s surface.