Category: All Stories

All Stories, General Fiction

Fred Rippon’s Mushroom House by Tom Sheehan

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“What the good Jesus!” Pete Tura yelled and disappeared, and as he said it again, his voice muffled, his mouth most likely closed by horse manure, a whole nine yards of it, the bottom of the collection box hanging from the second floor of the Hood’s Milk Company horse barn in West Lynn let go, taking my pal with it. I last saw one arm, not waving goodbye, probably trying to keep the pitchfork from doing him damage. Possibly he had tried to throw it behind him. That innocent weapon of deadly tines was not in sight as I peered down into the mixture of black clutter and hay still settling down with a metronomic slowness you could count.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Writing

Week 238 – Writing From The Nasty, Writing With My Buddies And ‘You’re Going To Put That Where?’

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Here we are at Week 238.

Yet again, the number is as interesting as listening to a conversation about moisturising. And before anyone thinks I’m being sexist, I’m not. Not being gender specific is an even sadder state of affairs.

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All Stories, General Fiction

A Secret Study of Jack Wilkens, Drunk by Tom Sheehan

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Early evening light, what was left of it, spilled near Jack Wilkens in his one lone room in the big house, a house once flaunting and imposing in its stance, now cluttered like an old shed forgotten in a back lot, debris its main décor. Despite his reputation as the town drunk, a ne’er-do-well from the first day, an inveterate crank, there had been an instant and subtle attraction between me and the old codger, an attraction without early explanation.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Writing

Week 237 – Empty Shops, Eternal Drinking And Three Big Baws For Your Granny

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Another week has rolled into the distance and here we are at Week 237.

My home town has now over 150 empty shops, that is very sad.

Off the top of my head, I can think of at least twenty pubs that aren’t here anymore and that is even sadder.

I miss all the pubs and one shop. ‘Drawrite’, was a stationers.

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