Bill Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose.
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Tag Archives: suburbs
Lisbeth Salander will have her reckoning
The upsetting quality of the music I play. The look of my hair after several days without shampoo. The sense I should be outside but don’t feel like it, the look of the snow after it finally seeps into our … Continue reading
Posted in prose, writing
Tagged creative nonfiction, humor, life, mindfulness, nostalgia, prose, stream-of-consciousness, suburbs, the nature of art, William Pearse writer, writers block, writing
14 Comments
The long wind down
On the last day of spring I walked to the lake in the morning, just past 5. It was light like it had been that way all day. I’d been up since 4, with the sounds of birdsong and fans … Continue reading
The Oxford comma
Dawn said there’s a cheaper treatment for lice, where you just put mayonnaise on your head and tie it off in a bag and then wait a couple hours, and they die from the oils. I learned about the Oxford … Continue reading
Posted in parenting, prose, writing
Tagged humor, pacific northwest, parenting, prose, stream-of-consciousness, suburbs, William Pearse writer
16 Comments
Lines (of longitude and latitude)
Though the tree is dead, it’s home to a lot of bugs, birds and bats, you can tell by the holes. It’s like the abandoned factory across the street from our apartment in Philadelphia that became home to the homeless, … Continue reading
Posted in prose, writing
Tagged art, artists life, pacific northwest, Philadelphia, prose, short form, Sponge Factory, stream-of-consciousness, suburbs, William Pearse writer, Wire the band
12 Comments
Discreet Music | January 7, 2018
The dog’s hind leg shifts like a coal in the wood stove, stirs, then settles in. It’s Sunday and I vowed to cook, read, build a fire and that’s it. Spent half of it online reading consumer reviews of cars … Continue reading
Posted in Memoir, writing
Tagged blogging, creative nonfiction, humor, mid-life crisis, pacific northwest, postaday, stream-of-consciousness, suburbs, William Pearse writer
23 Comments
Straw-colored grass, a bed of needles
The owl-eyed veterinarian talks too fast, wears her hair in a bun. The bun’s so tight it makes her eyes bulge. It’s always the same, we care about our dog and cat’s health, we start with good intentions. But her … Continue reading
Posted in musings, prose
Tagged cats, humor, Maxfield Parrish, prose, suburbs, summer grilling, William Pearse writer
29 Comments
Portrait of a house cat eating a bird one Thursday
Charlotte and I sat at the breakfast nook eating frozen pizza and watching our cat Roxy eat a bird. I watched Charlotte watching Roxy for a few bites before she realized what Roxy was eating and was glad when she … Continue reading
Posted in parenting, prose, writing
Tagged aging, Cocteau Twins, creative nonfiction, humor, mid-life crisis, pacific northwest, prose, Seattle, suburbia, suburbs, William Pearse writer
7 Comments
