At the far end of the couch, where the dog waits for us when we’re gone, I laid my book and my head down and looked outside at the gray and the green. We were still on east coast time,… Read More ›
Memoir
Iceland spar
Friday, April 13 Allentown, PA Between me and the homeless guy the table remained open the whole time I sat at the Starbucks. I wrote and watched him from the corner of my eye stirring his coffee. Three regulars at… Read More ›
Killing the Tree of Heaven
We went back to the east coast by way of Newark, and though it was spring break we made the kids wear coats, and I packed a scarf. We got a rental car and drove to my grandmother’s house in… Read More ›
Love and work (and when it doesn’t work out)
Crossing into April, Dawn and I were getting ready to be married. But the weather had been so nice every weekend for three weekends straight, we worried our luck wouldn’t hold out. All of us met at a lodge in… Read More ›
The letting go, again
Like the dog, I’ve started taking morning naps. One of the things I’ll miss most about contracting is these times, taking walks with the dog during sun breaks or running errands on weekdays, staying on top of the laundry. I… Read More ›
One in the same
When the rain came back it was like an old friend we’d become dependent upon who’s not good for your health but at least you know what to expect from them. It triggered the sameness of gray, of winter in… Read More ›
‘Something out of nothing’
On the twenty-first floor of the Grand Hyatt hotel I stood at the window in my bathrobe looking out at the high-rises and cranes above, mountains in the distance and ferryboats, all the people looking back in at us. I… Read More ›
Dead selves cleft off
Though it snowed, it looked like fake snow, like film set snow, as I walked across the grocery store parking lot, past the primroses for sale all covered in plastic. I checked out a curry restaurant on a side strip-mall… Read More ›
The fullness of empty spaces inside us
I sat in the den watching Ginger chew the water buffalo horn, the wash of drool that makes it slick and hard to maw. I scratched the webbing behind my knee that’s been giving me trouble. There was a mild… Read More ›
The Volvo 740 wagon
Likely driven by ego, I volunteered for a new project at work. The announcement I’d be leading it came across as I was sitting in the dealership finalizing the purchase of a new car. The car is a black Mercedes… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 