The blood in my dad’s beard hardly looked real, more red-orange than ruddy, almost clown-like, but terrifying when he stretched his neck tendons and tightened his jaw, his eyes rolling like an animal in distress to show a lot of… Read More ›
Memoir
Early autumn mixer
In the morning the moon was a hook and we sat under it going down. Lily and I went birthday shopping for Charlotte intent on a guitar and a bake set but came out with a $120 giraffe. No one… Read More ›
The end of nostalgia (no, not really)
First I need to come clean and say I’ve got one more 90s piece I’m sharing tomorrow even though I said I wouldn’t. It’s told by a musician trying to make it in Seattle pre-grunge who left for New York… Read More ›
90s nostalgia: Walt Walker | Late night thoughts on a decade
We are winding down a great week of 90s nostalgia, prompted by the 25th anniversary release of Nirvana’s Nevermind. I was hoping my friend Walt would come out of his box for the challenge, and he’s taken a pause from… Read More ›
90s nostalgia: Chauncy Gardiner | ‘Threading Through Time’
We’re winding down the pieces I’m featuring for a 90s nostalgia theme, brought on by the 25th anniversary of Nirvana’s breakthrough release Nevermind. Today’s featured writer is Chauncy Gardiner, whose blog I’ve been following for a few years, with daily… Read More ›
90s nostalgia: Kevin Brennan | nostalgia rocks!
Last week I announced a call for content for 90s nostalgia pieces, prompted by the 25th anniversary of the Nirvana release Nevermind, a great way for me to recognize some of my favorite readers and writers by celebrating your stories and… Read More ›
Pinklightsabre announces call for content, 90s nostalgia theme
A dog barked, a toddler spoke, the lake lapped and the wind chimes came, the breeze through the trees made a sound like dried corn husks. The light is different, we had the heat on in the car this morning… Read More ›
This bag is not a toy
Dawn’s cell phone alarm goes off in bed but she lies there listening to the rain thinking about work and I lie there doing the same, thinking about acquiring some. The rain collects in a corner outside, it’s probably something… Read More ›
The last days before the equinox
Fall’s moody shadows, pine needles, leaves: all that starts from above one day will drop, past the mountain peaks Jack Kerouac walked, they probably looked the same to him too, it’s hard to believe those photos of people in the… Read More ›
As several disturbances head our way
I looked up and my family was gone, lost in the folds of Powell’s bookstore, Portland, the litmosphere they call it, and I wandered the displays sniffing cakes of handmade soaps, glassware designed for gluten-free beer, branded. All the Portlanders… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 