There’s a place in Northeast Portland, an overpass that crosses I-84, that I have long believed might be something more than just an overpass.

I’m fairly certain that it is, in fact, a portal into hell.

There’s something about this time of year, halfway through October specifically, when the darkness of winter is just beginning its advance. Something happens and I start seeing things I’m sure are not really there. I’m pretty sure I saw a werewolf on Broadway downtown today. Just a couple blocks from where Trader Vic’s used to be and in broad daylight, he looked lost, confused. I’ll stipulate to the fact that I may be crazy and he may have actually just been a homeless guy but, this far into October, let’s just assume he was a werewolf.

So, anyway, this overpass in Northeast Portland. On more than one occasion over the years, I’ve seen…creatures there that could not possibly have been human. Rather, they were the kinds of creatures who looked to be turning, but hadn’t quite settled into their human forms. Or they’d settled into their human forms, but hadn’t quite gotten the nuances down. Something akin to this:

I guess, in a way, we all have those moments, when we just don’t feel comfortable in our own skin. If you’re having one of those moments, do me a favor: stay off that overpass. Y’all just freak me out.