In the dark corners of the library I am looking for my past. The corners are dark because it is the early 80s and I can barely picture it now. The new library has just opened in the old part… Read More ›
1984
The rat torture scene reveal
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.
More animal
Pouring boiling water down the sink drain to kill the fruit flies. The look of them in the dark as it spills through, this everyday violence. Remembering what my arm looked like when I cut it as a 5-year-old, running… Read More ›
Negative space
I had to drink out of the side of my mouth to get the taste of glue out since half of me was still numb. I went back to the dentist, Dr. Chan, the first time in years, with lots… Read More ›
The rat torture scene reveal | Field notes from the Pacific coast
This is a series of posts I started in late May and plan to continue for 40 days, with a goal of hitting 50,000 words by July 5 (now +25% complete!). It’s inspired by a three-day solo trek on the… Read More ›
‘Like frogs or rabbits’ | on living in the present, and wandering
May 15, 2017 Faint rain, imagined snow. Mid May and it’s still stew weather, heavy stouts. I have to run the heat in the morning driving in to work but refuse to wear a jacket and then turn off the… Read More ›
Trump, Orwell and the carnage of lies
Last year I read 1984 after we’d gotten back to Germany, in February. I was sick and feverish, and finished it in two nights. In the preface it said Orwell had lived through two world wars (he died shortly after… Read More ›
The first thing we’ll do is round up all the reporters
If there’s an analogy to be made between the winding down of the US presidential election and a sunset, the analogy breaks down when you consider the fact that most people enjoy sunsets. I debated between a winter sunset, the… Read More ›
The stain that won’t abate becomes a feature
The never-ending stain on the rug at the threshold between the kitchen and the dining room has the tenacity of a birth mark, it’s as hard to remove, has become my daily penance, a Greek who’s upset the gods now on… Read More ›
More and More, The Remote
I look at the painting but don’t recognize it, don’t remember where it came from, some faraway place, an alpine lake in blues, indigo, watercolor. I bathe myself in the sea salts of home. The smell of the pines outside… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 