I’ve now contracted at Microsoft for six months. Today for the first time I had a meeting in a different building. The buildings are numbered; I just had the number but didn’t bother to look up exactly where it was,… Read More ›
stream-of-consciousness
In the white room with black curtains near the station
March came and so did the arborist, all of it on its sides sagging down: the trees and shrubs, the lawn, moss taking over but I like the moss, it leaves your outline after you lie in it. We hadn’t… Read More ›
Every day I can I’m going to write
We drove to Fremont, a neighborhood my kids have never seen that’s in Seattle and just 35 minutes from our house, and when we got there and saw the stone troll under the bridge, the tourists pulling over taking selfies,… Read More ›
Most of them witches
In the manner of my mom’s partner Eberhard I held my head under the hand sink and let the cold water run over me and down my torso as I stood and grunted, examined myself and got dressed. It makes… Read More ›
Tourette’s
There are times I come out of the men’s room at the Microsoft campus and can’t remember where I am. I look left and right, I pick a direction and walk with confidence but it all looks similar and slightly… Read More ›
Irregular verb patterns and dreams
I went on the side of the house that still feels like the country and had a leak there, spied the full moon through the trees out too many nights in a row now, bleary eyed and runny; I saw… Read More ›
The circular references in stairwells and turnstiles
In the bath I wrote a poem comparing fruit to genitalia and in our den tried to relax but the record player’s so fussy it requires adjustment, like a harmony of adjustments between the settings for arm tension and anti-skating,… Read More ›
Winter takes Queen
One of the signs of getting older is realizing there’s only one sweater you really need and then sticking to it, hanging it like a coat in the entryway for quick and easy access: and because you happen to be… Read More ›
More posts about baths, please
How impossibly dark it gets here in the afternoons sometimes. I lay in the bath with the pork roast brining and thought about the father-daughter Valentine’s dance at the community center, the one coming up that Charlotte seems so excited… Read More ›
‘Why we try’ | on symbols and habits
The way the sun came through the windows made it look like lattice, the shadows of the tree branches on the window sills. I thought about dropping mom at the airport, but really thought about it because I’d thought about… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 