Vivian R McInerny
Bio
A former daily newspaper journalist, now an independent writer of essays & fiction published in several lit anthologies. The Whole Hole Story children's book was published by Versify Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2021. More are forthcoming.
Stories (75)
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The Journey Starts
I said goodbye to my parents in the driveway. The summer of 1974, I graduated from high school, turned eighteen and, with money earned at the mall, bought a round-trip ticket to what seemed like a shimmering fairytale across the Atlantic: Europe.
By Vivian R McInerny3 years ago in Wander
I'm Suing a Theme Park for Twerkers Comp
It started with the stance. I was supposed to be a mouse, a cutesy girl cartoon mouse. I pored over the handbook for cast members. That's what workers are called so we won't feel bad about ourselves dressing up like the entertainment for a kid's birthday party. I thought I was doing a-okay.
By Vivian R McInerny3 years ago in Fiction
Deciding to Accept My Indecion
I walked barefoot along the water’s edge where the sand and the sea and the sky blurred to gray. Cracked crab shells and jelly fish littered the beach. I kept my focus on my feet but sensed a slick dark figure bobbing in the breakers; a body surfer in a wetsuit, I figured. I turned to look. Muted light on the waves bounced and rolled like pewter coins. I shaded my eyes.
By Vivian R McInerny3 years ago in Humans
Thinking of Death on a Sunny Day
I always thought that life would make sense one day. With time I was sure I’d come to see what it all meant, what I learned, and what words of wisdom I could impart to others to make easier their paths as though I were an early explorer of this thing called life, bushwhacking through time. I waited for the big aha moment.
By Vivian R McInerny3 years ago in Humans
Snow Storm
Twilight is creeping on. The snow takes on a blue tint that I have always thought looked holy. It's the blue of the robes of the saints rendered in glass when the light hits the church windows just right. It's the sacred violet of my most gorgeous and eerie dreams that settle deep in memory decades after they were first conjured.
By Vivian R McInerny3 years ago in Poets
Water Stained
He’s being a dick. He knows he’s being a dick which makes it all the more aggravating. We’re standing in the kitchen on Saturday morning talking, or rather, I’m talking about the new coffee shop on Belmont and how I’d like the three of us to walk over there as soon as Winnie gets out of the shower.
By Vivian R McInerny3 years ago in Fiction
