OUTLAST THE STARS • by Kevin Shamel
I probably won’t write back to you, but please send an email now and then to let me know how you’re doing. He read that sentence again and again, trying to make more of it than it was. Or lessen… Continue Reading
Kevin Shamel
DOUBLE VIRGINITY • by Kevin Shamel
The first time I lost my virginity was awful. I won’t go into it other than to say that I was more than happy to do it over. The second time was decidedly more toe-curling. It’s not as great as… Continue Reading
RESIDENT DUTIES • by Kevin Shamel
That’s exactly what I said! There was an accident. Look at you. I don’t want to hear your story yet. Not until you hear mine. Our stories are similar, if not the same. You sit and drink. Listen to my… Continue Reading
TO SAVE THE DISCO • by Kevin Shamel
“Did someone stick a transceiver on the hull? Was it you, Ed?” “There is no transceiver on your hull. You are not in contact with your vessel. Or any vessel. Just me.” “Come on, Ed. I’m not speaking with a… Continue Reading
MAIL • by Kevin Shamel
The mailman is stealing my mail. I know he is. I can see it on his face when he hands me a pile of catalogues and fliers for oil-changes and pet supplies. Or a stack of bills. I used to… Continue Reading
THE HERO AND THE HORROR • by Kevin Shamel
The day came lilac and hazy. Trees whispered sluggish, cotton greetings. A crow, from its high cedar perch, blasted a call to its mate three trees down. I sat on the porch and watched the birds fly over — smudges… Continue Reading
SHOW ME BRAVE • by Kevin Shamel
“Someone has taken our table.” She spoke through me, as if to a ghost of herself standing behind me. Her eyes hardened under a glacial frost — gritty, grating winter. Her lips pressed whitely together, crinkling the edges of her… Continue Reading
EMERGENCY REVIVAL • by Kevin Shamel
My eyeballs still had a layer of ice on them when my lids snapped open to shrill, beating light. My body was hit with wake-up juice and jabs of electricity from the bed. I couldn’t scream because my throat wouldn’t… Continue Reading
WE • by Kevin Shamel
Baked to life in the belly of the sun, torn free from the bones of the Earth, and grown upon the mountain, he counted every breath. He took meaning in each moment — a grape that foresees its ultimate destination… Continue Reading
HAVEN • by Kevin Shamel
Spears of sunlight pierced the high canopy and plunged themselves into the forest floor. The floating things of the forest shone in the twisting rays of light — seedpods, and dust, and bugs flashing into the shadows. Lylee tried to… Continue Reading