Tag Archives: Evan James Sheldon

There used to be peacocks in the south— read some O’Connor, she’ll tell you— & lions roamed all over Europe, if you believe the internet. And I have to, don’t I? It’s everywhere, knows everything. The culmination of human knowledge. … Continue reading →

Some graves are filled with old bones, hopes, baubles, frozen dreams. Some graves hum with a song the corpses sing down under damp earth, waiting for a trumpet to sound, a blood- dipped robe. Some graves sleep quiet filled with … Continue reading →

Already I have lost the gunslinger of my youth. He was a wild boy, hands steady. The games were easy, and though we all died, we all knew what sides we were on and there were sides, clear-cut if shifting. … Continue reading →

Evan James Sheldon’s work has appeared in CHEAP POP, Ghost City Review, Pithead Chapel, and Roanoke Review, among others. He is an assistant editor for F(r)iction and an Outreach Assistant for Brink Literacy Project.

A school is being built in Chicago on top of nearly 40,000 unmarked graves. The workers must step around the bones of people who couldn’t afford a funeral. The school will be built, there’s no stopping progress. The children will … Continue reading →