24 Dezember, 17 Besigheim, Baden-Württemberg Early morning, happy snoring sounds in bed with Dawn—then mom and I by the banquette watching the birds gather outside by her window. We stayed up late playing Dan Fogelberg songs on mom’s tablet, Dawn… Read More ›
Back in Germany, Eberhard was like a floor warden in his vest he was so anal about my mom burning candles in the house. The place is 500 years old and all wood, there is that, and because it gets… Read More ›
Though it’s a Saturday there’s no one at the lake, just some birds on the shore bathing, a kids’ soccer game with shouting in the distance but it’s muted, it goes in and out with the wind. I can sit… Read More ›
Sitting in Laurent’s kitchen over an old farmhouse table he’s trying to describe what Capon means, the castrated cock he cooked the last time we were here in Metz around Christmas, and when he says castrated cock he suddenly looks… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 