Early November always reminds me of Scotland, the best memories of our UK winter tour there 10 years ago. Going for breakfast on All Saint’s Day, Celtic New Year, at some barren stone cottage on the shores of Loch Ness…. Read More ›
Creative Nonfiction
Counterbalance
It’s pie season here at the Pearse’s even though I’m the only one who eats pie. First the chocolate satin pie and then the toffee apple one with cool whip. I gripped the flab on my hips and thought man,… Read More ›
Station air break
Nothing like a clean batch of underwear. I can go a while as my family will attest. Apart from the fact they’re laying off tens of thousands of workers and trading in human capital for machines (and utterly evil), Amazon’s… Read More ›
Fear of flying
Normally after drinking coffee and walking in the morning I’m motivated to work around the house but today after breakfast I just lay on the sofa and gazed out the window. I needed to shower so I could put the… Read More ›
Waxing crescent
“Why it’s good to break routines” I was curled in bed like a backwards comma, like a crescent roll or uncooked prawn, embryonic, curled inwards. The guy at the gas station looked homeless when he approached; we talked a good… Read More ›
The day the Ozzy died
After waking up the next favorite part of my day was going to bed. I curled my back in a yoga twist and lay facing the glow of the bistro lamps on the chicken coop. I woke and slept hard:… Read More ›
Erasure
Now it took forever for the sun to come up and I just sat in the dark waiting. It could be like those mornings in the UK one winter I hand wrote by candlelight just to see what would happen…. Read More ›
Sky therapy
The sky was biggest at Rock Meadow, the nearby horse farms where I sometimes walked. Though it was just 10 minutes from our house whole months could go by without me going there. On the right of the small road… Read More ›
Deep winter fantasies on a new October moon
No one seems to like my gumbo as much as I do but that hasn’t discouraged me from making it. It’s the smell of the roux and the mouthfeel of a rich stew that feels best this time of year…. Read More ›
User’s sanctum
The silhouettes of the horses in the pre-dawn dark look two dimensional. They move at the same pace as me along the lodge pole fencing at the horse farms. Some distant frogs croaking and the din of morning traffic; it’s… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 