Author Archives
Bill Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.
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Song for the dawn
I loved the look of the dawn in the mountains when camping, a long band of pale light along the horizon pushing up against the dark and gloom. It was uplifting to see how the light could dispel the dark… Read More ›
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The sun is the same in a relative way
Not needing to go to school on a Thursday in late November was nice. I remember standing outside the car in the early afternoon noting the sky, the dull lead color but the light no less, heading to my grandparents… Read More ›
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Renewal
I went to our local Indian bazaar for fresh curry leaves and bought what I thought was spinach but when I looked at my receipt it said pulsaag, an Indian spinach alternative also known as basella, a climbing vine. I… Read More ›
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Sad Classical
For as much as I liked walking in the dark it was much better in the pre-dawn, more color in the sky. Nobody out on a Saturday but me and the rabbits. More reason for the owls hooting I guess…. Read More ›
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Laszlo, Charlotte, Dawn, Timmy, the moon
Mom’s Hungarian lodger Laszlo made plans to move out. Charlotte and her friends are at an age they’ve started experimenting with alcohol. Dawn and I began a routine of going out on Fridays for dinner and sat by the window… Read More ›
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The play’s the thing
Once we got into November the year started to droop. Seattle earns its reputation for bad weather in the eleventh month. It’s not just the rain but the wind storms and darkness. Once Halloween’s over we reset the clocks and… Read More ›
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Stay (and help me to end the day)
After the storm the streets smelled like Christmas with all the pine needles down. There was a house for sale so it was empty and they kept all the lights on all the time. It looked sad like that, exposed… Read More ›
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Holes in your logic
After getting my ears pierced I thought my life would change but of course it didn’t, not one bit. This is what inclines people to get more holes or tattoos. The Hole That Can Never be Filled. It got so… Read More ›
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Urban hieroglyphics
When the macadam broke on the road it took on the texture of a lizard or elephant’s skin, deep ridges spidering out in broken patterns. It was light enough to see on my walk by the horse farms though still… Read More ›
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Standard Time
I tracked Lily with my phone, especially when she was traveling through Europe, clubbing in Barcelona for example. I wasn’t proud of it and tried not to look in a snooping way but it was hard. I was glad she… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 