Kevin A Reilly
Bio
Writer, husband, amateur human. My dog, Conan, is my best little buddy. Supporter of a little nonsense now and then.
Stories (5/0)
The Visitors
Beyond the cracked sidewalk, the telephone pole with layers of flyers in a rainbow of colors, and the patch of dry brown grass, there stood a ten-foot-high concrete block wall, caked with dozens of coats of paint. There was a small shrine at its base, with burnt-out candles, dead flowers, and a few soggy teddy bears. One word of graffiti-filled the wall, red letters on a gold background: Rejoice!
By Kevin A Reilly3 years ago in Fiction
In a Forest of Hollow Trees
Just off Times Square in a 5-foot cut-out tucked between a Chinese restaurant and a bodega sat a man. He was bearded and bedraggled and wholly unnoticed by the passersby. He spent most of his days tucked right there in the cut-out, watching and listening. He was fascinated by the sounds. His eyesight had started to fail, so he found himself relying on listening more and more.
By Kevin A Reilly3 years ago in Fiction
On Simone Biles
I’ve seen quite a few posts and articles about Simone Biles, so I figured I’d add my take to the mix. I’ll start by saying that no one is on the same level as Simone Biles when it comes to gymnastics. I’m sure she’s deficient in some areas of her life like maybe she’s a terrible speller or always burns her grilled cheese, but she is arguably one of the greatest athletes ever to compete when it comes to gymnastics.
By Kevin A Reilly3 years ago in Humans
The Wild Marigolds of Seven Rivers, New Mexico
James and Charlotte Bealson lived east of Seven Rivers, New Mexico, on a bluff overlooking the Pecos River. Charlie, James had given her that nickname years before, had picked the spot eight years prior because of the field of wild marigolds that grew there. She had never seen a marigold before they got to Seven Rivers, but once she had, that's all she wanted to look at.
By Kevin A Reilly3 years ago in Fiction
