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 ›
Memoir
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 ›
Primitive forms of passage
Just like our pets I was prone to taking afternoon naps. Naps after lunch were best, more so after pie. I felt like Bilbo Baggins cozying into my cottage right before the dwarves came. Outside there was scant, filtered light,… Read More ›
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 ›
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 ›
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 ›
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 ›
Meditation on fake body parts
It was really hard to sit in the dark in the early morning and do nothing. Blame it on the coffee but my mind raced. There was an odd peace at that time of day standing in the yard with… Read More ›
Place
I’d visibly gained weight after my trip to Europe. The weight that hangs on the gut in flaps. I was way too proud for all that and felt dirtied by my own excess: bread, butter, cheese, pastries, cake. I got… Read More ›
American Pie
This is the final post in a two-week series of travelogues set in Besigheim, Germany with my mom, Linda Pearse. It’s a queer, ghostly light the moon makes through the fog and the early morning dark. I’m now used to… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 