It is the last thing they have to hold on to, perhaps. Winston and his girlfriend have broken from the state and formed a tryst. When they are captured, they’re separated and taken into confinement for weeks, months, possibly years of interrogation and reconditioning.
Image taken without permission from writer Ross Murray I’d never seen one like it before and my instinct was to feel sorry for it because the other ducks either shunned the white duck or lashed out at it with their… Read More ›
I sat waiting for it with my eyes closed. I heard the music from upstairs mix with the sounds of my own music. I chewed the ends of my mustache and saw the pattern of grass and how it looked… Read More ›
Last night’s wood fire still broods, it hangs in the air. I am made older by it, my inability to relate. And the desire to retreat inwards, down a path with no exit and no room to turn around.
Everyone wanted to know what Dawn was getting at the store and everyone had something to add to her list. I remember when Sunday nights turned into week nights because people would email and spin up work conversations about the… Read More ›
It’s always something, some locust or beetle or “killer bees.”
It can be scary for a contractor without the promise of work lined up after you end a gig, like a trapeze artist letting go of one swing and reaching out for the next.
And I just have to think, to consider the amount of loss I’ll feel when everyone is out of the house and it’s just me, positioning things exactly as they should be.
Lily makes a gun shape out of her hand and puts it to her mouth, pulls the trigger. This, on a Sunday in response to me reminding her that she needs to get ready for confirmation class, if she wants… Read More ›
All the store fronts had their hours posted but it didn’t matter because I couldn’t for the life of me remember what day it was. The names shrank away when I focused on the letters and returned no results. And… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 