I came to the bridge above the river, the one described in the guidebook. I’d taken a picture of it last time but it was only a green braid in the gray canyon rock, reduced down to that…. Read More ›
Slaughterhouse Five
Just Like Billy Pilgrim’s Blues, Amsterdam
I came unstuck in time again and reappeared 20 years later pawing the glass on some Argentinian steakhouse window in the Red Light district with a bull’s head in the window convinced I’d been there before. Two days in Amsterdam… Read More ›
Dead as a door-nail
I’m sitting in the den drinking beer. The fog won’t burn off, it’s cold like San Francisco. I stood in the aisle at the grocery store with the toothpaste and traveler-size section, and lost myself in the overhead music, forgot… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 