Kevin Rolly
Bio
Artist working in Los Angeles who creates images from photos, oil paint and gunpowder.
He is writing a novel about the suicide of his brother.
http://www.kevissimo.com/
FB: https://www.facebook.com/Kevissimo/
Stories (77)
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Sorrow Dogs
The riven dogs returned from the shattered fields, their coats crusted with the epithets of war...mud, blood and memory. They drooled in long ropes which dragged wet to the earth and curled together for a common warmth shivering with a thief greater than cold. Time past and a singular howl rose, pure and baleful. A keening of utter loss as if to extinguish himself entirely by sound.
By Kevin Rolly3 years ago in Fiction
The News
Dark glass fell down like rain shattering against the stained bricks and then went silent. Shards glinting in the alley light that no one would see. Screams rang out from above, furtive and distraught like the last cries of the world. The sound of something ending.
By Kevin Rolly3 years ago in Fiction
The Plan
They spread themselves in a circle, everyone silent. The field was cast in the last beryl light of the day and they all held the forms in their trembling hands. The final contracts signed and agreed upon. Tonight it would happen. It had taken years of planning. They cast the papers into the fire which burnt into orange curlings which whispered away in dying sparks into the cold night.
By Kevin Rolly3 years ago in Fiction
Mother's Day
She held her son in her lap like the day he was born. Golden haired and blue eyed. The child of promise who heralded the new beginning for her, for her husband. So many years lost to sadness until he arrived in trilling sunrise joy. Today was Mother’s Day.
By Kevin Rolly3 years ago in Fiction
The Vow
The desert does not give up her secrets, keeping these confessions as her own. He left the milky jar past the stone ridge just off the road in a rocky hollow. Out of sight from the meth ridden denizens of the lowlands who haunted the shadows of the mountains and who prowled in their mad circuits among the ruins. He had to be careful.
By Kevin Rolly3 years ago in Fiction
Home
The cat was mere bones sliding beneath aged skin marked by the long miles. Drain pipes and broken fences, hiding from the ravaged dogs and living on the garbage of the cities splayed in wet alleys like shredded plastic mountains. Down country were mice and carrion at least.
By Kevin Rolly3 years ago in Fiction
The Bridge. Runner-Up in Microfiction Magic Challenge.
The bridge only went so far until it didn’t. The rusted spannings hanging in twisted steel over the river which coursed some hundred feet below. The ruined train tracks bowed outwards in shorn metal ribbons as if blindly seeking to connect again to the far beggared tracks. A thing yearning to be what it once was.
By Kevin Rolly3 years ago in Fiction
