Stacy Shepherd
Stories (4)
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Tuto and I
I heard the familiar hooting at dusk. Her bright orange eyes glowed at me, inviting me in. A deep contentment warmed my body and I fell back into a light sleep and into Tuto’s skin. We had grown accustomed to living in the same skin at night, she and I. Tuto shared her secrets with me when I most needed them; we hunted, flew, and ruled the night together.
By Stacy Shepherd4 years ago in Fiction
Enough
She had finally had enough of it. The low pay, the weight gain, the way men avoided her when she walked down the street. All of it. Never ending, like the gift of mental illness that just kept on giving. Bipolar I was not just Bipolar I. It was medication that made her throw up, body pains that came from nowhere, insomnia, oversleeping, and a gut problem that never quit. Yes, she had had enough.
By Stacy Shepherd4 years ago in Fiction
A Home is A Home is A Home
It was another gorgeous day in Santa Barbara, California. The seagulls sang praises to the sun while they floated along in the gentle breezes of paradise. It was the middle of summer and the birds were expecting a bounty of food as the distracted tourists provided them ample opportunity to snatch a quick meal. The nightmares of fire and mudslides were gone and the COVID War was being won. There were dolphins and whale watching and mothers chasing after sunbaked children, sun block in hand. Michael Aguirre took no notice. He was just a passerby, brought here by promise and jaded by reality. His voice, permanently hoarse, had betrayed him all too soon and his rising star was shot out of the sky overnight. Now there was only pain and work and bills and alcohol to make him forget. He had no care for his doctor's warnings about weight gain and liver failure. Early death would be a welcome event as far as he was concerned.
By Stacy Shepherd4 years ago in Families
Once the Best
Sweat ran down his brow in streams and he turned his head at the sound of the Mission bells. A sigh escaped his lips as he wondered how he had gotten so low. Once considered the BMW Queen of the South Coast, he had been hiding in trash bins to avoid old acquaintances as they passed by on their way to the better restaurants and bars.
By Stacy Shepherd5 years ago in Fiction
