In 1996 I didn’t know what to do there, I just knew I had to be on the internet. There was a little internet cafe around the corner from my apartment on Broadway, Seattle’s hip, gay neighborhood I’d just moved… Read More ›
Memoir
Brief candles
Leaving Utah last September was one of the saddest times of my life, saying goodbye to our daughter Lily. That little airport in the middle of nowhere, so desolate. Sitting in the lobby waiting for the airport workers to open… Read More ›
The day we went to Wahlheim
In the morning I came downstairs and turned on the portable heater. The neighbor had her Advent lights on in the window, and I turned ours on too and then made the coffee. I lit a candle and a stick… Read More ›
The richness of the present
The toilet angled sideways, the doorways hung low. The door sagged on its hinges and the old wooden beams that made up the ceiling, they were slanted too. Everywhere you looked, there was something to see: a white patterned fabric… Read More ›
Auf dem Kies
Slinking about the town we stick to the edges like rats, we climb the old stone walls sideways. The old stone walls that bulge beneath the fachwerk, that flank the village to the north and south. The village that has… Read More ›
Beetles and eggs and blues
For 20 days I took an all-cold shower after yoga every morning and today, on Thanksgiving, having the house all to myself, I grunted and snorted and really hammed it up in the shower, finishing things off with a stiff… Read More ›
A film of light
The candle starts off bright but soon goes dim. And that’s OK because the light from outside comes on as the candle’s gone down. The two match each other’s dimness. I sit in the dark with my blanket and the… Read More ›
Gold teeth and a curse for this town
You park by the side of the road by the apartments, the place you grew up. A sign says residents only but you feel a sense of entitlement being here. You imagine the conversation you will have if someone stops… Read More ›
The real color of fake blood
Now the big maple leaves are copper colored and scattered across the trails. Some have spots, most are matted together. They will combine down into a tapestry of debris and then recombine with the earth. The scent and sight of… Read More ›
Let go into the mystery
The dark pockets of mom’s old house were something to see. It could be depressing too, how the leaning walls closed in on you. But for a Sunday morning in late August with the rain coming down I was glad… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 