Aislinn Shevlin

Stories from Aislinn Shevlin

Thursday, December 6th, 2012

Father Timothy was a mouth breather.

Every time I went to Confession I could hear his

Distinctive and repetitious exhalations

Seeping through the wicker

Screen separating us and I wondered if it was

The result of a broken nose.

Thursday, December 8th, 2011

Early in the morning on the day of the sale a middle-aged man arrived at 4 Beach109th Street. This was his first stop. He arrived on bike, as would be the case with most of the arrivers. He wore thick rimmed glasses, which, along with his beady eyes, made him look like a government inspector. He had done his research as usual, studied the signs around the neighborhood. He knew which blocks were having sales, and who was having them. Maggie Sullivan’s sale at Beach 109th Street seemed the most promising this particular Saturday in New York, seeing as her husband had recently passed away.

Thursday, April 28th, 2011

 Tardiness