Right about now the shit would be hitting the fan in my mom’s small village in southern Germany. The Winzerfest wine festival, which only happens once every two years, was in full swing. And by the looks of it the… Read More ›
Cadillac Kolstad
An apple no worm had found
We took the 14 toward Backnang, past the place I bought a used hatchback one time with Eberhard, Sulzbach an der Merr. And I could still remember the turnoff where Dawn and I took the car for a test drive… Read More ›
Trying on masks | Field notes from the Pacific Coast
It’s almost over! This is a series of posts I started in late May and have published daily for 35 days now. It’s inspired by a three-day solo trek on the Washington coast, with side-story memoir scenes wrapped by a few… Read More ›
Trying to get lost in Belfast by foot
Charlotte’s clothes (8) are mismatched the way they might be for the homeless, for function only, stained, holes, slanted — and I’m collecting plastic bags in my pockets for function too, to tie around my shoes as makeshift rubbers or… Read More ›
Hit by a Cadillac
The fourth night with the Boogie Woogie band at the wine festival here in Germany and it doesn’t sound as loud as it did the first three nights, our ears have gotten used to it. And as we resurface now… Read More ›
I love my liver when I eat my lover
Drinking beer in the morning in the kitchen cooking with a wife-beater and Tom Waits, finally found something the cat will eat that’s not decapitated, some calf’s liver in a yogurt sauce from a plastic packet mom adds olive oil… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 