postaday – Page 31 – Bill Pearse

The way is dark

By Bill Pearse on March 20, 2013 • ( 2 )

We live in the country. Actually, we live in the suburbs but it’s a small patch that hasn’t been developed yet, so it feels like the country. The first morning of Daylight Savings Time I walked to the end of… Read More ›

Chicken crap for the soul

By Bill Pearse on March 19, 2013 • ( 9 )

Dawn’s been egging me on to embrace my dark side: no more chicken soup for the soul crap, she said. At some point, you’re going to have to decide if you’re Mitch Albom or David Foster Wallace. When we bought… Read More ›

Arrêt

By Bill Pearse on March 18, 2013 • ( 1 )

We’re playing frisbee on the side of a snow-covered mountain. I look down, and realize I’m on a knife edge ridge. Frisbee doesn’t seem like such a good idea now. The others are gone and I experience the sensation of… Read More ›

Green, Orange

By Bill Pearse on March 17, 2013 • ( 0 )

Moss is emerging in our yard like a new nation, making the trees look like a psychedelic Yes album or a Tolkien book. I relocated the remains of the fruit tree to the back, day-dreamed in the hot tub, thought… Read More ›

Aping Carver

By Bill Pearse on March 16, 2013 • ( 5 )

She talked about him a lot, the ex. Like an instruction manual for how to treat her, but in a different language. Woman Language. If I could figure out what went wrong with him, maybe I could be the one…. Read More ›

You brought smiles

By Bill Pearse on March 15, 2013 • ( 2 )

Balloon on a string in an empty room Head on the ceiling like any other ghost, Just trying to get out The ribbons lose their luster The cheeks start to sag They’ll find bits of you in the trees, Your… Read More ›

Mirrorball

By Bill Pearse on March 14, 2013 • ( 3 )

Pat Dolan and his brother Damien lived up the street. Their dad Mr. Dolan was a cop, a huge cop: he filled the doorway when he stood. We sat on the front doorstep and spat. We had just learned how… Read More ›

Us

By Bill Pearse on March 12, 2013 • ( 2 )

I was making my nest: a studio apartment at the base of Pill Hill in Seattle, basement floor. It looked onto a courtyard no one could access, and the top half of a parking lot. My bed was up on… Read More ›

When 5 feels like 4

By Bill Pearse on March 11, 2013 • ( 5 )

I don’t know what happened to that hour, but we won’t get it back until after Halloween. I got nominated for a blog award on Friday, which felt good and was really nice, but when I got into it Saturday… Read More ›

At home with the sea

By Bill Pearse on March 10, 2013 • ( 5 )

The tide pushes against my shins and my feet disappear into the sand. I’m anchored here now, against the sea, with sky, sun, moon, mountains. The water curls around me, tugging, saying You are part of this, too.