Rebecca McKeehan
Bio
At 59, I'm still a Navy brat with a whole lifetime of interesting experiences that provide rich inspiration for my writing. I write short stories, of which my romances are best known, poetry, and the occasional article/essay.
Stories (20/0)
The Cathedral
Abigail would never admit to being more than sixty, and that started ten years ago. She took massive pains to preserve the beauty that had seen her through life, including working out nearly every day down at Vic's Gym where she was practically a legend. More than one youngster had tried to keep up with her only to fall flat on their young, unlined, faces.
By Rebecca McKeehan3 years ago in Fiction
Baubles
My name is Emma and I have stage 2 breast cancer. It isn't my first battle with this disease. I was diagnosed with it five years ago and beat it. I'm determined to beat it again. But at the moment I'm miserably sick from the chemo and, really, just want to be left alone.
By Rebecca McKeehan3 years ago in Fiction
The Old Lady in the Field
I remembered the house from my youth. Traveling north on the interstate to visit relatives, I would watch eagerly for it from the backseat of my parents' old station wagon, anticipation growing with each mile closer to Lexington. Was it still there?
By Rebecca McKeehan3 years ago in Fiction
Christmas Without You
Moonlight found its way into the bedroom, its glow more pronounced by the reflection of the three feet of snow that covered the ground outside. The furnace hummed as warm air was forced from the vents into room. From beneath the rumpled comforter, Rachel turned over onto her side and reached out to the clock on the bedside table. 3:23. Exactly ten minutes from the last time she checked.
By Rebecca McKeehan3 years ago in Fiction
Windswept
It was a pleasant September day, as the Aleutians went. The incessant wind was little more than a breeze, no moisture dripped from the brooding gray clouds, and the temperature was hovering in the upper forties. Of course, all of that would most likely change without a moment's notice.
By Rebecca McKeehan3 years ago in Fiction
Truth and Dare
I am a survivor of abuse: psychological, emotional, and sexual, with instances of physical thrown in to keep things interesting. As a result of the pain and isolation I constantly lived with, I became angry and bitter at a very young age. Looking back, it's heartbreaking as I now see myself as I was through the lens of many decades and I wonder, where were those people who could help? But back then, there was little recourse for any but the most seriously abused children. The rest of us endured and did the best that we could.
By Rebecca McKeehan3 years ago in Confessions
Truckin' Dog
When I was a long haul truck driver in the early 1990's, Bootsie was my erstwhile partner. She was my companion, my sounding board, my social icebreaker, and my security alarm all in one compact, cairn terrier's body. Her favorite place by day was lying on the dash watching the world go by while we were tooling down the highways and byways of the country. At night she would curl up in the sleeper, though I often told other drivers that she drove after dark because that's when the cops couldn't see her.
By Rebecca McKeehan3 years ago in Petlife
Navy Brat Forever
My father enlisted in the Navy when I was about 6 months old. For the next 20 years my life was a series of naval bases and military housing. During that time I was privy to the triumphs and challenges of military life, not only as a “brat,” but also as an extended member of the military family. To this day I'm more at home on a military base than I have ever been in the civilian world, and I'm nearly 59-years-old.
By Rebecca McKeehan3 years ago in Serve
