Author Archives
Bill Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.
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We dropped the flyer for the middle school orchestra concert between the bleachers and left the chicken on the refrigerator
I got so mad at the chicken I roasted I couldn’t even eat it. I started working on it at 2 PM but it wasn’t ready, and out of the oven, until just after 6, right when Lily needed to… Read More ›
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The force of the light is the theme
How soothing at the lake, the water pooling in. Birds and kid sounds, a gull burrowed down, a helicopter seed- pod’s propeller spinning, brown: I watched it all the way, thought I could stay here all day, on the seam… Read More ›
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‘The chances were, they wouldn’t’
I sat at the bar watching golf. Behind me, three general contractors who swore a lot, talking about their jobs. I thought about saying something. I pictured how I’d do it. But after listening to them for a while, like… Read More ›
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Building 37
I’ve now contracted at Microsoft for six months. Today for the first time I had a meeting in a different building. The buildings are numbered; I just had the number but didn’t bother to look up exactly where it was,… Read More ›
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‘Jesus cleanse’ this:
I tried to get into bed to read, the dog was there. I had my phone and Bluetooth speaker. My friend Mike was texting me about his speakers, sending photos, telling me what he was listening to. I got an… Read More ›
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In the white room with black curtains near the station
March came and so did the arborist, all of it on its sides sagging down: the trees and shrubs, the lawn, moss taking over but I like the moss, it leaves your outline after you lie in it. We hadn’t… Read More ›
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That exquisite pose, prose
It wasn’t supposed to snow or smell like dog puke still in the corner of the sofa but it did both (it smelled and snowed), and I tightened my scarf and went out after dark but it was starting to… Read More ›
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‘The first thing we’ll do is round up all the homosexuals’
My head in the hand sink in the morning under the cold water spigot and now, my chest hanging out in the manner of a woman’s, with the hormonal levels petering out, the muscle tissue gone soft. I did a… Read More ›
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I sat on the edge of my hot tub naked
I sat on the edge of my hot tub naked toweling off five minutes to four and thought one day I will look back on this and remember it better than it is now.
