It was the last of the tarot-reading Saturday morning overnight music programs on our local radio station, the last card in the major arcana, The World. And so I tried to catch it all live by getting up at 3:30… Read More ›
Creative Nonfiction
An ocean of clouds
July 11 It’s now been a week since I’ve been eating those chicken thighs I grilled on the Fourth. Somehow no one seems to vibe with my Jamaican jerk chicken. I marinaded it for 36 hours in habaneros, scallions, ginger,… Read More ›
The days run away like Teslas over the hills
Dawn and I started to see the rest of our lives unfold and it was interconnected with this house, this yard. A matter of ongoing refinement, settling in. I had no business eating this cheese but didn’t want to waste… Read More ›
Judgment
The trail is dry at the park and crunches underfoot. For the first time I brought a bunch of people with me to my morning walk, Dawn’s family who’s visiting from out of state. We’d just be out for an… Read More ›
The Can
Just a few days past the solstice and already I imagined the morning light had changed. But it was that queer wildfire effect from somewhere making the sunlight pink-gold, all the treetops like a Maxfield Parrish painting psychedelic. I first… Read More ›
Sporting Life
There was the sweetest deer and her fawn that had been coming around the yard. But I didn’t want them munching on Dawn’s lace tree so I sprayed it with coyote urine. I used a lot more than I needed… Read More ›
I hate you
In typical Seattle fashion the first day of summer was 15 degrees below average with rain. I threw open the windows to celebrate and turned on the heat. Dried the bath towels over the vents and got up at 4,… Read More ›
Everything is beautiful
After six months of escalating daylight I was ready for it to end. I’d been falling asleep to an Egyptian oud player with the volume so low it sounded like he was slapping his drum right next to me. It… Read More ›
Dirty rag
Dawn unemployed, me about to be, Charlotte’s school nearing the end and Lily not working yet, the four of us are often at home dirtying it. Then there is the dog and cat and the kids’ friends leaving their paints… Read More ›
Make hay
I lay in bed with the windows open and the sound of the lawn sprinkler rotating. Just five more days of work. When it’s over they don’t bring you a cake or slap you on the back and say good… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 