Sean Jackson's Writings
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Short Story
May.23.2013
Main Street Rag, Spring 2013
It’s miserable weather to be planting, and Celeste knows full well he knows it too. He’s stubborn as a frog, she grumbles, looking out the damp sink window. She rubs her sleeve on it and it just smears up. A pink light flickers out behind the dark pecan trees. Bobbles like a firefly close to the ground. It is Claude moving left to right. West to east. Then back...
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May.06.2013
Niche Magazine
He came in bleeding. A gash in his face, slanted from temple to cheek. He had been partying since it happened, drinking beer at a beach cabana, and the blood was caked and brown.
“How’d this happen?” I checked Tully before the ER doc came around. I am the triage nurse, the first smile you get – sometimes the only one.
He said the crossbar of a hang glider got...
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May.02.2013
Maze thumps the steering wheel of his green dusty Ford Contour as we wait for a fare to come out of a duplex that looks like something they would condemn in New Orleans. His taxicab smells like the sweaty back of a fat older man who has been hoeing weeds in a field all day. I say something to Maze about it.
“Mexicans,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of...
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Poem
Apr.30.2013
He assayed the ordinary, and established only margins of danger
which sent him reeling, inside black months, rebellious
and difficult to manage.
In greasy wet gear, fishing for shadows, this is where he made
home, a blue reed on a Manet shore. Minnows whirling
in a bucket, their eyes losing hope. He with cigarette lips and dead posies, listing
to starboard,...
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Short Story
Mar.04.2011
Beyond The Margins
They were an older couple and they were looking for a hotel room. They had left their home near the coast because of the hurricane. Now it was the two of them and their Chihuahua, Mimi, scouring for Vacancy signs in Greenville.
“I’m not staying in a motel room,” Nolan snapped at Prudence.
There are 132 hotels and motels in Greenville, with a total of 1,183 rooms...
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Short Story
Feb.17.2011
Dallas Revels is too old to be hanging shingles on a roof with this steep a pitch. He is every couple minutes staggering back and having to lunge forward to keep from going off.
“We’ll have a funeral Sunday if you don’t stop,” his wife Janelle calls up, shading her eyes to the white sun. “You ain’t so young anymore, Dallas.”
He sweats so badly he mops his eyes...
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About Sean
Sean Jackson’s latest stories have been published in Splash of Red, Beyond the Margins, and Thieves Jargon, Carte Blanche, Forge Journal, among other literary magazines. He is currently seeking a publisher for a recently completed collection of stories. From...
Connections
Causes Sean Jackson Supports
PFLAG, Amnesty International, AA, Catholic Social Services
Sean’s Favorite Books
Light in August, Wyoming Stories (all three books),
Sean is a fan of
