Author Archives
Bill Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.
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Transfiguration
The blowing, sideways rains of November have returned this October. When I got out of the hot tub I smelled worse than when I got in, a combination of bromine and chlorine you’re not supposed to mix, the smell of… Read More ›
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Five leaves left
When I met Shana at the airport it was late October, almost three years since she left Seattle. I still didn’t have a car so I rented one, which seemed nicer than making her ride the bus. The last time… Read More ›
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Nine leaves left
Dawn said come hell or high water, you better be working by September (that was April), but she doesn’t really talk that way, in italics, it sounds worse than it is. We were between low pressure systems spinning off Vancouver island… Read More ›
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The lines we used to find one another
I went for the toilet but because it was dark I didn’t see the seat was up and nearly fell in. Mike and Kim renovated their house since I’d lived there, so it was now easier to get to the… Read More ›
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How the mist filled the valley in the morning with the light coming through
Though it’s a Saturday there’s no one at the lake, just some birds on the shore bathing, a kids’ soccer game with shouting in the distance but it’s muted, it goes in and out with the wind. I can sit… Read More ›
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The blood in my dad’s beard
The blood in my dad’s beard hardly looked real, more red-orange than ruddy, almost clown-like, but terrifying when he stretched his neck tendons and tightened his jaw, his eyes rolling like an animal in distress to show a lot of… Read More ›
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Father and daughter
One day you will notice what the days do, how they curl and build and fall apart like the waves, most times indistinct, sometimes disappearing like socks in a drawer you can’t find, they fold over on themselves and get separated… Read More ›
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Early autumn mixer
In the morning the moon was a hook and we sat under it going down. Lily and I went birthday shopping for Charlotte intent on a guitar and a bake set but came out with a $120 giraffe. No one… Read More ›
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90s nostalgia: Brent Stavig | ‘Neverminding Seattle’
In case you missed it, yesterday I announced a last-minute post on the 90s nostalgia theme I want to feature, two other blogs with a call for content, and more. Today’s guest post is from my friend Brent Stavig, on the… Read More ›
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The end of nostalgia (no, not really)
First I need to come clean and say I’ve got one more 90s piece I’m sharing tomorrow even though I said I wouldn’t. It’s told by a musician trying to make it in Seattle pre-grunge who left for New York… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 