Shannon Lemire
Bio
Writing is a part of who I am.
I go back and forth between handwritten lengthy journaling and sitting here glued to my laptop.
As inspiration hits, I write and follow the intuitive nudge.
You'll see many sides of me here.
I hope you enjoy.
Stories (19)
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Nature Love
My dearest thunderstorm, You are the most thrilling and captivating phenomenon I have ever witnessed. You fill me with awe and excitement every time you grace the sky with your presence. You are the perfect blend of beauty and power, of light and sound, of calm and chaos.
By Shannon Lemire3 years ago in Poets
Hope.
Whirling, wet wild winds whispered.
By Shannon Lemire3 years ago in Poets
A Sandpit and Leather.
It started our night innocently, suggesting a country drive and a walk somewhere. The warm summer air blew through the open sunroof of my white Mazda as he expertly drove through windy back roads; I lit a joint, our conversation flowed, and foreplay began to build. Immersed in the topic, I was chatting as he slowed the car to take a left and park under an alcove of oak trees off the side of the road, and I smiled in recognition of where we were the sandpits- a place both of us knew well; him with riding his dirtbike over the years and me hiking. It was quiet other than a couple of bluejays squawking, and I could smell the fresh scent of the forest. R.S. turned the ignition off and put the seat back to stretch, closing his eyes as he did.
By Shannon Lemire3 years ago in Filthy
Sunday Morning Orgasm
I woke early that morning, around 4, and went downstairs to make coffee, finish some dishes, and then go outside. R.S. was sound asleep; I knew he wouldn’t even know I had gotten up. My outfit consisted of big boots, underwear, and three hoodies, and as I walked toward the mailbox, hearing the gravel crunch under my feet, I breathed in the chilly 38-degree air, immediately glad I was out there. I loved early morning exercise; it got my blood flowing and cleared the gunk from my head. I allowed thoughts to pass by without giving them too much attention and opened myself up to the possibility of all good coming along for today.
By Shannon Lemire3 years ago in Filthy
Mailbox #7205
I flip the package over a few times to see if any other marks or indications may give me a clue as to what's in it and who sent it. Whoever it is must know me well to send it via a non-traditional method; drone, and with no postmark, return address, or stamps. The clear wide tape covers the end and back seams, giving me the impression that someone took their time wrapping it. The package is light and feels like nothing is inside, and I shake it to listen; there's a slight rustling sound but little to no movement of whatever is in there. My intrigue and curiosity play at the edges of my imagination as I eye the package.
By Shannon Lemire3 years ago in Fiction
