Salvatore Sodano

Salvatore Sodano is an author of dark fiction and a graduate with a BA in creative writing from Southern New Hampshire University with summa cum laude distinction. He is a husband, father of two boys, and a career New York City Firefighter since 2003. He also runs a charitable nonprofit called The Fight for Firefighters Foundation that raises money and builds wheelchair ramps for anyone in need who is battling a debilitating illness. The foundation can be found at fightforfirefightersfoundation.com. His most recent work “A Call to Arms” was published at Underwood Press.

The Revisit

Thomas leans his head against the fuselage and looks down through the Lexan window. The homes remind him of a town model his father had once made in their attic when he was a young boy. The streets, like small veins, separate the cluster of suburban Floridian homes. Their peaked roofs are all two-toned from the sunset. He imagines his house, empty and distant, buried beneath the cover of an elevated train in South Queens, and how the sun will peak from behind the steel columns for that brief moment outside his kitchen window, and how he won’t be there to see it.

Salvatore Sodano

Salvatore Sodano is an author of dark fiction and a graduate with a BA in creative writing from Southern New Hampshire University with summa cum laude distinction. He is a husband, father of two boys, and a career New York City Firefighter since 2003. He also runs a charitable nonprofit called The Fight for Firefighters Foundation that raises money and builds wheelchair ramps for anyone in need who is battling a debilitating illness. The foundation can be found at fightforfirefightersfoundation.com. His most recent work “A Call to Arms” was published at Underwood Press.

The Revisit

Thomas leans his head against the fuselage and looks down through the Lexan window. The homes remind him of a town model his father had once made in their attic when he was a young boy. The streets, like small veins, separate the cluster of suburban Floridian homes. Their peaked roofs are all two-toned from the sunset. He imagines his house, empty and distant, buried beneath the cover of an elevated train in South Queens, and how the sun will peak from behind the steel columns for that brief moment outside his kitchen window, and how he won’t be there to see it.

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