Shamar English

Shamar English is originally from Santa Barbara, California, but now lives in Douglasville, Georgia. He has an Associate of Arts Degree in film from Georgia State University. He has short stories, essays, and poems published in literary magazines and journals such as literallystories2014, Better than Starbucks, The Writing Disorder, The Mystic Blue Review, Eskimopie.net, Not Your Mother’s Breast Milk, Susan/The Journal, Litro Magazine, Terror House Magazine, Bull & Cross, Stinkwaves Magazine, The Stay Project, Night Music Journal, Scarlet Leaf Review, O:JA&L, Literary Yard, Literary Hatchet, and Front Porch Review.

Portfolio


literally stories •

http://literallystories2014.com/

The police showed her his watch. His watch and wallet, and his wedding ring. No matter how much Amy asked to see her husband’s body, they dissuaded her. None of them actually said that he was unrecognisable because of his injuries but, through the shock and horror of it all, the message was eventually received. She picked up the timepiece she had bought a couple of years earlier. The engraving on the back ‘All My Love Stuart – your Amy’ left no room for doubt. His wallet held some money, his ban
Literary Yard •

‘Gloom’ and other poetic satires by Shamar

The room is the exterior of a muddy tan truck. The walls are a labyrinth of cracks, dirt, chipped paint, and protruding nails. The carpet is sitting underneath pounds of grunge, vomit stains, mildew, crud, hair, paper, and crumbs. The closet mirrors are dirtier than the inside of a dumpster. The gray dresser has more scratches than the walls in bathroom stalls. The radiator is under black and brown fungus with subtle white streaks. The baby blue lamp is dusty and missing its lamp shade. Some
Terror House Magazine •

Blues

Everywhere I go, I see blue. Everywhere I go, I hear blue. I see blue more than anything else. Blue is following me. Blue is the most popular color. Blue is my mother’s favorite color. Any one of those reasons and more could be why I always see blue. When I get mad, I don’t see red, all I see is blue. The first time someone hit me so hard that I saw stars, they were blue. Every time I am upset someone says to me, “Do you have the blues?” Every word in every sentence that I ever heard is blue. I
O:JA&L •

Drama for Page or Stage: Shamar English's "Amy"

A young man confronts a dark figure from his past to obtain justice for a loved one. About the writer: Shamar English is a writer from Douglasville, Georgia. English has had short stories published in literallystories2014, Better than Starbucks, the writing disorder, the mystic blue review, eskimopie.net, not your mother’s breast milk, Susan/The Journal, and Litro Magazine. He attends Georgia State University. Image: “The Flats” by Rachel Renaudin. The Cleveland skyline with the characterist

Volition – Bull & Cross

Sam looks around his apartment. It’s the size of a motel room, everything is pristine and in order like an exhibit in a museum, yet it reeks of residual secondhand smoke and cat litter from the previous tenant. Sam notices the mustard-green wallpaper between the stained-glass window and refrigerator peeling and sighs, bowing his head for grace. He removes the plastic cover from the microwave dinner, grabs his fork and slowly pushes the nuked macaroni around the tray. The tenant above him start

Stings

I remember the first time a bunch of older kids in my neighbourhood jumped me. Sunny day, breezy weather, wood chips, poison ivy, and pigeon crap everywhere on the ground. I was no more than ten years old. It was the first time my mother ever let me go outside by myself. She told me to stay close to the front door, where she could check on me. I did not listen because I wanted to play with the other kids in the neighbourhood. I saw five kids playing catch with a football and approached them. I a