Shelly Slade
Bio
Mother of two adult daughters, grandmother to Jackson, lover of music, especially Bruce Springsteen and Machine Gun Kelly. Avid concert-goer. Avid reader.
You can also find my work on Substack at: https://shellylovedealer.substack.com/
Stories (14/0)
Time
Flowing like a stream Unable to be contained Frozen then released
By Shelly Sladeabout a year ago in Poets
The Abandoned Cabin
“If walls could talk” is funny to me because I am, you see, a wall. Obviously, I can’t talk (none of my fellow walls can talk) since I don’t have a mouth. I can, however, share my energy, which tells not only my story, but the story of everyone who was ever contained within me and my three closest friends that make up this room.
By Shelly Sladeabout a year ago in Fiction
Live Reaction: Inhaler by Foals
I don’t know what to expect! Very kind of jazzy rhythmic introduction – longer instrumental opening than a lot of songs. Sorry, I paused and lost my train of thought when the lead singer started singing - instant connection to his voice startled me. I really like the slight echo on his voice and the tone of his voice. There’s a slight growl but it’s also a higher pitch . It’s cool. It’s heavier than I expected from the opening. Oh, I like the way it broke and changed tempos and rhythm (or are those the same thing? I don’t think so, although I think one is essential for the other maybe. Music experts can pitch in here. I love to learn).
By Shelly Slade2 years ago in Beat
Mainstream Sellout Album Reaction - In Writing
MAINSTREAM SELLOUT LIVE WRITING [ADDED AT THE END: I thought I was writing on a blank Word document but it turns out I had started what is written below. I’m leaving it for two reasons. One is I was thinking about how MGK says in Downfalls High that there are no happy endings so I wrote this paragraph with no thought as to what I would do with it. The second reason is that I like it and it fits the style of the rest of the writing so maybe reading it first will help you wade into a somewhat confusing style that’s maybe a little unusual or maybe somebody else did it first because what didn’t somebody else do first, am I right? And also, it’s relevant to what happens later.
By Shelly Slade2 years ago in Beat
Learning to Love
Callie unbuckled the car seat straps and lifted one-year old Jack from the car seat. She debated about getting the stroller out of the trunk and decided instead to carry him to the playground. The sun was shining and there was a light breeze ruffling the leaves on the oaks surrounding the park. Around the smaller trees were beds of marigolds, freshly planted. She was pleased to see it wasn’t too crowded, but it was a Tuesday, her normal day off work. Jack babbled happily and clapped his hands, his latest trick, as they approached the swing set. She plopped him in the baby swing and gave him some gentle pushes. He squealed for more, and she pushed him harder. He had no fear; he hadn’t learned that yet and she hoped he never would, but knew it wasn’t likely.
By Shelly Slade3 years ago in Fiction
Finder's Keepers
Her favorite thing about the house she had bought two years after her divorce was the small woods behind it. Sitting in her bedroom, she could look out the window at the trees and imagine she was in the middle of a forest somewhere, secluded and private, instead of in the middle of a suburban neighborhood outside Atlanta.
By Shelly Slade3 years ago in Fiction
Grandma's Hands
Susan bent in front of the oven and peered through the glass. The chocolate cake was rising nicely. Knowing when to take it out was part of the trick to the perfect cake. She thought of all the summers she had spent at her grandmother’s in her little house in St. Louis, the scent of chocolate wafting through her memories. They had baked this recipe over and over, and the entire family would acclaim their perfectly symmetrical triangles of pure chocolate bliss every time it was served. It was a birthday special request, but there were a lot of birthdays in the family. By the time her grandmother sold her house and moved into an apartment, Susan could bake the recipe with her eyes closed. She knew the exact moment to take the cake from the oven, the exact degree of coolness before she slathered it with a generous amount of cocoa frosting.
By Shelly Slade3 years ago in Fiction
Driving After Dark
Story 1: Keeping Up With the Joneses Sarah nervously put her phone on the magnetic holder and started the car. She opened the app and her index finger hovered over the button for a few minutes before she finally pressed “GO!” She waited. Nothing. Her shoulders started to relax. The tension left her face. Bing!! The app went off, and all the stress hormones flooded back into her body. She pressed accept and put the car in drive. She was grateful to have an opportunity to make extra money, and she loved to drive, but the idea of complete strangers getting into her car was for sure a big unknown. At family functions, everyone knew to look for Sarah in the corner with her nose in a book or looking at her phone. She wasn’t anti-social, not exactly. Just extremely awkward socially. As for parties, well she would show up late, half-drunk, and leave early having spoken to probably a quarter of the people that she knew.
By Shelly Slade3 years ago in Humans
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