Shea Keating
Bio
Writer, journalist, poet.
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Twitter: @Keating_Writes
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Stories (30/0)
Almost Love: Part Ten
Half a year passes without him. We speak here and there, but never anything too meaningful. We see each other just once, and pretend we didn’t. I do what I always do with him -- pretend it doesn’t affect me. Save my tears for when I get home.
By Shea Keating2 years ago in Confessions
Almost Love: Part Nine
I wake up warm, and surrounded by him. His scent is all over my sheets, on my skin, in my hair. I breathe him in whenever I can; having him here like this is still rare, though it shouldn’t be. We spend the early hours in bed, and then he leaves. It’s not enough time, and I protest, but he tells me he’s coming back this afternoon. Twice in one day, for us, is either exciting or ominous.
By Shea Keating2 years ago in Confessions
Blur
My fingertips trace the curve of a spine, and for a moment I am captivated at how smooth the skin feels. It’s the kind of touch you start and then don’t want to finish; I repeat the motion, slowly, and I hear a breath catch in response. It’s familiar but new; like finding a new rooftop in a city you thought you knew every part of.
By Shea Keating2 years ago in Pride
Almost Love: Part Seven
Years after that first look across a crowded room, things look different but feel very much the same. The Queen has been banished, the other men in my life pushed aside, and still we aren’t together in any meaningful sense. Our families have not met; we do not share our friends. Our lives continue on, parallel but still deliberately separate, somehow both easier and more difficult than before.
By Shea Keating2 years ago in Confessions
Almost Love: Part Five
One thing we don’t share is our real lives. They do not overlap or intersect at all. We don’t mention this, because it points out the glaringly obvious truth that what we have isn’t real, and neither of us wants to spoil the fantasy like that.
By Shea Keating2 years ago in Confessions
Almost Love: Part Four
We have to stop, I write, but delete it without sending because I never mean it, even when I want to. She will be here tonight, his Queen; the universe finally noticed that I’m long overdue for some karmic punishment. I clearly need to look into the eyes of the woman I’m attempting to replace, and really feel the damage I’m going to cause her when she finds out who I am.
By Shea Keating2 years ago in Confessions
