I couldn’t imagine getting rid of the African robes. Dawn’s on this kick now from a book where you categorically go through things to determine what brings you joy and if it doesn’t, you get rid of it. We’re putting… Read More ›
musings
Possibility of ground collapse or fatal gases
I got up as the moon was going down, and back along the icy trails of Cougar Mountain we went, my dog Ginger and I. After I peed she peed in the same spot, like we were playing some game… Read More ›
Magnificent return to splendor
All the grisly-bearded rooftops in the morning covered with frost, warming up the car. Realizing I’m falling into familiar work patterns, things I used to do in my last job: going out to the car a few minutes before I… Read More ›
Ballad for a dying bird one Sunday
I cradled the near-dead bird in my palm, it was the size of a chicken egg and felt warm, I could feel it breathing, though it had its eyes closed like it was wincing, fanning the air with its feet,… Read More ›
Abusing cough syrup with New Age music and household pets
We didn’t own any thermometers in the house, didn’t want to. I went to the store for a sponge so I could use one in the bath to warm up, and then I answered some emails and got into bed,… Read More ›
Sterling Hotel snapshot, 1992
I sat at the end of the bar with the bartender Robbie watching It’s A Wonderful Life, his favorite movie. It was snowing outside and the bar was basically closed. He wasn’t supposed to, but Robbie only charged me for… Read More ›
Escher paradox diagram (on cold medication)
Monday at the Brewhouse, in Issaquah. “Mondays don’t matter,” that’s what mom said when we lived in Germany. We’d walk up to the butcher for the weiß wursts late morning, a soft pretzel and a beer, go back home, take… Read More ›
A low-melting alloy used for joining less fusible metals
When Ginger gets up in the morning and first stands she looks like a newborn fawn touching down, the legs wobbly, on stilts. But I don’t stretch, it’s the discomforts of my past I remember in my joints, stumbling down… Read More ›
The shoulder seasons
Friday, 9 Dec 16: mom looked out the front door and winced. Two hour snow delay but it all turned to rain, and now the lawn looks patchy and white like a grisly, old dog. Stayed up late watching it,… Read More ›
After most humans were gone and it was just the robots
One day the robots started to romanticize the humans, what little they knew about them. They formed robot families, small social structures, gathered around screens. There was a film in black and white set around Christmas time with fake snow… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 