Little things, like the fact they didn’t leave trash liners here at our flat in Belfast, or I need a different key for the back door to dump the coffee grounds in the ash bucket, or the fact my man… Read More ›
history
The coin of the realm
It twists and shifts with the pace of a Rube Goldberg machine, drops men from boats to dangle in the sky, forest green figurines crouching, aiming, leaping — heroes in the minds of boys, heroes in living form some call sacrifice. A plastic American… Read More ›
Now anyone can talk to God on the Internet
My wife and I sit in the dark in the morning listening to the radio, listening to a person who’s picking out the songs and talking about them, and she wonders how it’s possible this still exists, now that… Read More ›
An Empty Shelf
I was the only American among 24 tour-goers, when we went around and introduced ourselves at the memorial site. Our guide, a young woman from New Zealand, asked us to say our name and why we’ve come to Dachau. I… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 