Charlotte starts therapy today at the same time as Lily, which means by late afternoon the three of us will each be talking to different counselors in separate rooms, with Dawn waiting in the lobby with her book. It’s afternoon… Read More ›
journal writing
Song for late March, sung from a dog
There was no way we could all live forever. My dog knew that by the way she looked at me when she folded back into a crease on the couch and smacked her lips; that was it right there, the… Read More ›
Frost circus, Portland
Peeling potatoes I took off my finger tip and imagined a piece of it there among the red bliss skins in the sink, something small and pink you’d find on a beach. But it got me out of cooking, and… Read More ›
The sandtrap
There was not much new to the new year now, it seemed. Driving across the state, I ate a bag of wasabi-flavored smoked almonds in about 30 minutes, taking it by the handful, popping them one by one, wiping the… Read More ›
Sunday’s flattened head
On the five-hour drive to Brad’s cabin I kept it cool in the car to stay awake, to keep my cold tolerance up. Driving across the state to the east, how it all flattens to farmlands and big skies, windmills,… Read More ›
The day I turned purple (2019)
After 10 days without drinking, the swelling in my lower gut finally went down. A balloon losing air. On Monday I was offered a new job, and on Friday I turned in my laptop and said goodbye. The January bugs… Read More ›
Launch
In the morning when Dawn starts the electric kettle it sounds like a rocket about to launch, slowly building pressure until it snaps free from the launch pad and lifts off. She pulls it down by the handle and sets… Read More ›
A different plane
Life has led me here. Charlotte climbed down the steps from her bunk bed, and went downstairs to the kitchen. The dog circled and collapsed by our bed. Outside, the wind kicked up and the rain came on. I reflected… Read More ›
Reflection
In the dream I was doing yoga in a class with mostly women, squatting, feeling overweight, with the sensation that my wang was poking out. It was, and I realized it must be a dream. I felt my body strain… Read More ›
N/A
I woke at 5, brewed the coffee, and lit a candle. Maybe the first morning in two years I’d woken without any alcohol the night before. I’d done a dry January enough times now, I’d developed some nostalgia with it…. Read More ›
Bill Pearse 