When I met Shana at the airport it was late October, almost three years since she left Seattle. I still didn’t have a car so I rented one, which seemed nicer than making her ride the bus. The last time… Read More ›
Six Arms
Nine leaves left
Dawn said come hell or high water, you better be working by September (that was April), but she doesn’t really talk that way, in italics, it sounds worse than it is. We were between low pressure systems spinning off Vancouver island… Read More ›
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 ›
Bill Pearse 