The sun warm, the air pleasant, but me like a beggar lost in thoughts, I stepped up to the back door of the old farmhouse on Route 182 in Franklin, Maine. Home at last from the army was topping off my day. Coming home from military service, I’ll swear forever, is better than birthdays, weddings,… Continue reading The Long Way Home by Tom Sheehan
At first, long before he became aware of whispers, the stones in the cemetery trembled at his touch; not all of the stones, but only those on graves belonging to people he had known in life: comrades, teammates, family members, girlfriends, lovers – or the stones memorializing those who hurt him in life or those… Continue reading Whispers in the Grass by Tom Sheehan
Looking from one end of a story to another is enlightening in most circumstances. Often the surprises on tap happen out of the blue … or take a piece of forever to come around.
I leaned against the largest maple tree, planted hungry years before upon a leech trench in my back yard, watching my going out of me at play and shining the souls of mirrors back, telling each other what we knew. I loved him from the tree, later a window dark-squared above the wide grass, as… Continue reading Flashing Mirrors at a House Built in 1742 by Tom Sheehan
World War I was more than 20 years down the drain for most people, but Tommy Heffernan was looking up, with a slight discrediting look on his face, at Tim Kiely the bartender who was talking to or, more to the point, entertaining three drinkers sitting at his bar in Kiely’s Pub. The 2 o’clock… Continue reading The Softest Hands by Tom Sheehan
Gawkers galore, that’s what followed her around, at any corner, on any walk, never mind the beach in a thong outfit nearly disappearing itself. Men of all ages, for their own reasons, guesses, imaginations, rallied to the cause, we all can readily believe. many women, too, who wondered what they themselves could do with her… Continue reading The Lady has a Following by Tom Sheehan
Tom Sheehan’s Two Characters in Shantytown is a high combination of realism, art, despair, the past and that which carries the same into the future. The “cartographer” knows that the story will not come full circle until someone is fed to the river.
On his twentieth wedding anniversary, and pondering various presents he might acquire for his wife Amanel, Viktor Drovnovich, a land manager in the eastern section of Pskov Province, scanned the offerings in Karpenko’s store front as he headed home from a three-week separation. The trip would take him two days, with a night spent at… Continue reading Midwife Legacy by Tom Sheehan
Buzz Turner, all 12 years of him, reader galore, all the thick and curly red hair in place, saw the moon slip sideways into his eyes just opened for the change, dragging him instantly from a deep sleep into clear observation. He loved the transfer in the heavens, as well as the sudden change in… Continue reading The Edge of Dreams by Tom Sheehan
When I invaded the Bond Bread Factory, as a hungry seven-year-older, on a plank from a neighboring building, my sister Patricia, younger by a year, was my scout, my watch dog, my whistleblower, all to make sure we’d have toast off our kitchen stovetop which required bread to begin with, mystifying my mother about “Who… Continue reading Loaves of Life by Tom Sheehan