J. E. Sullivan
Bio
J. E. Sullivan is skateboarder from Brooklyn, NY.
I make gifs of my garden, complain about office culture on Twitter, and write short fiction that I think reminds me of my favorite writers. Mostly happy.
Stories (7)
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Bar Rescue Ep. 20032: Huanan Seafood Wholesale Market Wu Han Markets
Voice Over Narration: Last year, more than 550 open markets opened up in the Wuhan province of China. If things don’t change for the Huanan Seafood Wholesale Market, they may need to close their doors for good. After a recent outbreak of the novel Coronavirus, the Chinese Government Inspectors are threatening to shutter the wet market entirely, and impose a 1500 Yuan per day fine on owner Eddie Li, and partner Terry “D.L”” Chungli.
By J. E. Sullivan4 years ago in Fiction
Hula Hoop Girl
For more reasons than one, Harold disliked automobiles. Railways were his sole means of transportation. Luckily he and his fiancée, Evelyn, lived within walking distance of the train station. However, on Friday, the weatherman predicted rain; more rain than the northeast could ever imagine for July. Like every other twenty-eight year old know-it-all, he, of course, never listened to anything that man said, and kept his scheduled stay at the clinic.
By J. E. Sullivan4 years ago in Fiction
There Are No Sequels In Hell
On paper, the late comeback of Chris Kurtz’s 40-year acting career is as much of a mystery to those interested as Dracula, Stonehenge, or even life on Earth. Truth is, it was a total accident and, of course, a welcome revelation for Kurtz, who for the first half of his career during his early 30s, ham acted his way through several marginally profitable, but otherwise junk, action-comedy franchises. The box-office returns were enough to retire early, but although Kurtz loved acting, he didn’t love these films. Despite Kurtz being keenly aware of the quality of both his performances and of the product he was making – standard Hollywood cheese, popcorn cinema barely worthy of critical reviews – it didn’t hurt less. He wanted instead to be taken seriously. He first took these roles because they were the only ones offered to him. Then they just kept coming. So he often turned to drinking to cope with this other sad detail of his lonely life, as he was unmarried and unpartnered at 30, a rarity for someone successful and mildly attractive (albeit for thin hair and some mild acne scars from his youth), living lavishly in New York in 1990. Kurtz, along with all of the other creatures of the night who kept odd hours – cooks, bartenders, comedians, Broadway performers, etc. – would party into the wee hours of the evening, on his dime, always, at least until one night, New Year’s Eve, and the eve of Kurtz’s latest film: Interstellar Monks 3.
By J. E. Sullivan4 years ago in Fiction
No Okies from Oklahoma, or Bennies from New Jersey.
Phil Baider is sweating, in his apartment, over a blue 2009 Prius on Queens Craigslist. It’s the end of the world and the seller listed it as not only "excellent,” but with “new tires. Under 100,000 miles." A steal in a constricting market. He and his wife Trudy had been locked inside their apartment for over three months because of city-wide quarantine.
By J. E. Sullivan5 years ago in Fiction
Razor Burn
It’s 1996 and I’m about to start my last year of elementary school, at a new school, in a town to which I just moved. Some background: my mother had just separated from my dad after he had been carrying on with a woman named Colleen at local bars in town. Since my mom was cute, and still young, she didn’t have to stay single for very long; a family friend had set her up with a widower she was close with named Eddie. He ultimately became my step-father, but was first introduced to me as a lonely sea captain, who thought my mom was attractive, and would drink Diet Pepsi at our friend’s summer pool parties. They hit it off immediately, and he eventually invited us to move in with him and his teenage son Russell, just one town over. The ensuing 12 years were, in fact, the best years of my life, but they definitely didn’t start that way.
By J. E. Sullivan5 years ago in Confessions
