A guy shouted at us, Get away from the building! My boss was pale white and crying, all the blood drawn out of her face. Doris, my colleague, looked like she was 10 years old, as if the fear of… Read More ›
Seattle
Six Arms
My first bar in Seattle was Six Arms. Glen was a skinny guy who worked there and drove a silver 280-Z. He was sick with HIV, and they had a jar to collect donations for his treatments, but he died… Read More ›
The feeling of a house with everything taken out
I can’t help getting rattled by the constant disarray of our house: the kids, the cats, the dog, the yard. Everywhere, something is off. But then I remember the look of our house in West Seattle when we moved out:… Read More ›
The Train to Portland
Shana worked at the IKEA south of Seattle, where she met Marne. Marne was with Don, and Don and I hit it off. Don and I made plans to go to Portland over Memorial Day weekend, which is where we… Read More ›
Put things back
I’ve been carrying around this Pendaflex of old writing for years, and yesterday I made the mistake of getting it out. I haven’t read most of it since it was written, dating back to 1992. Once you start, it’s hard… Read More ›
Foraging
I take walks from work to clear my head, get some light, take a break from the computer. Outside, the scene is the same but still, I forage. I’m looking for ideas, listening. Though the scene is about the same… Read More ›
Ultimatum
Utah Avenue is a sad, crooked street that runs up the back side of Seattle’s industrial district. I’ve been walking this street for 17 years now since it’s where I work. It’s where I go to clear my head, get… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 