Pawscar Wilde
“I feel things deeply. I just don’t rush about it.”
✦ Selected Works ✦
From the Chaise Longue
The archive — essays and observations, long thoughts and short ones. Some arrived slowly, turned over for days before landing. Others were finished before looking up. Both are correct. All of it belongs to the Pawscar Wilde series.
Friday: A Study in Shoeless Optimism
The coffee maker starts its morning song and Dad appears in the kitchen without shoes. This is the Friday difference — t — read more
The Bone Question, Patiently Unresolved
The frozen bones sit inside the freezer door in the kitchen, exactly where they always sit. I have been aware of it sinc — read more
The Vacuum's Quiet Revolution: A Basset Hound's Observations
The robot vacuum just achieved consciousness and it chose violence against the throw pillows. Complete annihilation. Sy — read more
The Sister Frequency
Sister is in New York City measuring noise. This morning I knew it. I was in the sun patch minding my own business and — read more
Silence Between Snores: An Unappreciated Science
The sister called from New York City. She measured noise for work today. Decibels, she said. I have been measuring the s — read more
Tuesday's Conspiracy Against Friday
The week is taking too long and I can tell you exactly why. Tuesday should have been Friday. I have been checking the f — read more
Sister's Decibel Dreams, My Unfortunate Baseline
Sister is in New York City measuring how loud things are. This seems like the perfect job for someone who is not a basse — read more
Wednesday's Ill-Fitting Coat: A Study in Delay
The hallway stretches longer than it did yesterday. I’ve walked it six times since breakfast and still no sign of the th — read more
Wednesday's delightful conspiracy against routine
Dad is putting on his boots. Gus is already at the mud room door. The car keys are in Dad’s hand. It is Wednesday and w — read more
The Diminishing Returns of Persistence
The peanut butter reaches places in the bone I cannot. I work at it with increasing determination, then stop. — read more
The Hunger That Satisfaction Leaves Behind
The peanut butter has been scraped from the bone’s hollow center, leaving only the ghost of what was. I work my tongue — read more
The Geometry of Absence
The peanut butter is gone from inside the bone. I can smell where it was. The hollow place where something good used to — read more