I ate last night’s dinner for breakfast, wild mushrooms in bone broth. I sat by myself in the nook chewing, contemplating the day. It passed without report. In the middle of the night the moon made the fog look like… Read More ›
pacific northwest
All of us
How many selves do we get?
Wit’s End, Washington
In the mornings it’s so dark I just lay in the den watching constellations and listening to the clocks tick, thinking any day now I’ll start work. I read about portmanteau words like brunch, Brexit, and Microsoft. The word psionics,… Read More ›
The origin of the word ‘souvenir’
I removed all evidence of Halloween except for the jolly jack o’ lantern with the little electric light. It had no amount of malice, like a kid’s happy face before they’ve learned how to sneer. I left the large plastic… Read More ›
Your Mom’s Ashes
Lily and her friends have formed a band called Your Mom’s Ashes, but spell it in a way that bastardizes the your and ignores the possessive for the mom’s. The four of them circle our property looking creatively blocked, needing… Read More ›
Lucky man
Another dream where I’m outside the building where I used to work but my badge won’t let me in because I’ve been fired. I took my mom to one of my favorite restaurants but began choking on an olive pit… Read More ›
The intensely masculine act of splitting wood
I fantasized regularly about having a good woodpile. For me, woodpiles always represented a unique combination of order and comfort. Everything in its right place. But after three days of splitting wood every part of me hurt. On the third… Read More ›
The last Sunday in September
The drive from Portland to Seattle on a Sunday morning in early fall. Fog lifting, leaves changing, the look of the clouds. Later how the fire consolidated down to a few logs glowing red. The pink in the western sky… Read More ›
The last day of the fair
Going to the fair was less about going to the fair and more about reliving past times we wanted to hold onto. I’d never noticed it before, but all the rides were basically the same. In the same positions even…. Read More ›
Kaleidoscope of life and death on the PCT
On the fourth day we rested only a couple hours from the last camp, still in the burn area. It was already getting hot by mid morning and I got there before Brad, eager to secure a camp. There was… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 