There were times I’d walk out into our garage and just stare. Stare at the progress I’d made to restore order which was rare, and worth staring at. The state of the garage is like an ocean beach, the calm… Read More ›
existentialism
“Stay”
Probably the last trip up Cougar Mountain for the year. Rained from start to finish, mud in the car now, the smell of wet dog. The trail a mash-up of leaves all brown and yellow, the maples are the last… Read More ›
The Fall of 2015 | The Chauffeur’s Flat
We fell asleep with the laptop on watching Bob Ross the painter dragging colors down to form a reflection, shapes along the shorelines in reverse. And I went back to poking a coal of memory, a no-name place in the… Read More ›
‘Do androids dream of electric sheep?’
In the den at night with the flue to the gas fire open it’s so drafty it feels like we’re outside, and Dawn and I wrap ourselves in blankets, play vinyl, and it’s a pain to get up and have… Read More ›
The Firth of Forth
In the morning it was darker than we remembered it—Lily called out to Alexa three times to change the alarm, and I went downstairs to start the coffee, to check my phone. My vision was bad from the bug that… Read More ›
Existential work theme | 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. It’s inspired by a three-day solo trek on the Washington coast, with… Read More ›
River Theme | 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. It’s inspired by a three-day solo trek on the Washington coast, with… Read More ›
Love songs, prose, for the Pacific coast
How the clouds hung on the horizon off the water and made two lines, I thought they were grinding their teeth. All the mountains ground down from the pressure of the sky pushing on them and the earth, where they… Read More ›
“In the midst of life we are in debt, et cetera”
Wednesday, that day time slows every week, with Lily on a late-start for school, the possibility we could all sleep in until 7:30 but never do, a day I work from home with Charlotte on early release, meaning she gets… Read More ›
‘Blood stain from a rabbit carcass on the front doorstep’
It took me 55 minutes to walk from my mother-in-law Beth’s back to our house after dinner. It was dusk but I didn’t get rained on, I got home before dark. There’s a part of the walk that goes up… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 