It took about two weeks and 12 blog posts before I started feeling good again. I got back to the park and they still had signs up about cougars, probably would ad infinitum. I realized the bear spray made a… Read More ›
Creative Nonfiction
Waning gibbous
At the park the grass is bleached out and bald, the color of sand, under the big pines. Several came down in last autumn’s bomb cyclone and they had the park entrance taped off with warning signs but of course… Read More ›
Giant steps are what you take (for DFW)
Both girls overdo it with the perfume; they lack subtlety. The landing just outside our bedroom is now a miasma of sweet, with Charlotte’s BF Rosie living here. When Dawn’s gone I stretch out like a starfish in bed but… Read More ›
Chewing the furniture
The dog would just stay upstairs and sulk when Dawn was away, only coming down to feed. It’s like she took it personally. All the aluminum foil balls we used to keep the cat distracted were clustered under the sofa…. Read More ›
August Moon
Walked to the lake in the dark for the first time in a while, sick of being cooped up. Forgot how it looks when there’s fog in the street lamps, a cone of milky light with bugs flapping about. Frogs… Read More ›
Waxing gibbous
For all my romanticizing the coming of fall it’s heartbreaking to think summer’s nearly over. You forget how much the next six months are ass. The sound of kids playing in someone’s yard well past sunset tonight seemed an apt… Read More ›
Touching from a distance
Getting off to cough syrup seems like a lower order high but now that l’ve resigned all vices but caffeine I’m not above it. Weird dreams? No problem. The melatonin did that for a while but got too weird for… Read More ›
Our endless, numbered days
The cougar was more than a cougar, it was a metaphor. A fear of the unknown or being tracked by something immutable, time itself. If it were a Castaneda novel the cougar would be a witch, supernatural. I’d have to… Read More ›
Ripeness
It could have been the sound of the church bells on my early morning walk, going through the last few years of late August memories. Parsing through the past was like looking across a vista, trying to make out what… Read More ›
Chance (?)
Took the Iron Gate trail but varied my approach by going the reverse direction up the Devil’s Backside. Discharged the bear spray I got in Montana in 2018 to make sure it still worked because you’re supposed to swap those… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 