Shannon Lemire
Bio
Writing is a part of who I am.
I go back and forth between handwritten lengthy journaling and sitting here glued to my laptop.
As inspiration hits, I write and follow the intuitive nudge.
You'll see many sides of me here.
I hope you enjoy.
Stories (14)
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What the Woodshed Heard
What the Woodshed Heard I wake before dawn, sometime around four, the house wrapped in a kind of sacred quiet. I slip out of bed without disturbing R.S., knowing he won’t even register my absence. Downstairs, I make coffee, finish the dishes left from the night before, and layer myself in big boots, long underwear, and a hoodie — my makeshift armor against the 34‑degree air.
By Shannon Lemire3 years ago in Filthy
Mailbox #7205
I flip the package over a few times, hunting for anything—an imprint, a smudge, a clue—that might reveal what’s inside or who sent it. Whoever did this knows me well enough to avoid the traditional route: no postmark, no return address, no stamps. Just a drone drop and a name written in thick black marker. The clear, wide tape is laid down with care, sealing the end and back seams so neatly it feels intentional, almost intimate.
By Shannon Lemire3 years ago in Fiction
