paul_a
Primary tabs
| Type | Title | Author | Replies | Last updated |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Story | "Immigrants" | littleditty | 20 | 4 years 7 months ago |
| Story | Moonlighting | chant | 8 | 9 years 2 weeks ago |
| Collection | Broken Air | paul_a | 0 | 9 years 4 weeks ago |
| Story | Kataskopos | paul_a | 4 | 9 years 1 month ago |
| Story | The Night Soil Men | paul_a | 0 | 9 years 7 months ago |
| Story | The Lie | chant | 4 | 9 years 7 months ago |
| Story | Gamergate | markbrown | 2 | 9 years 7 months ago |
| Story | Slate | Philip Sidney | 14 | 9 years 7 months ago |
| Story | Homesick | paul_a | 2 | 10 years 4 months ago |
| Story | Just Add Egg | paul_a | 1 | 10 years 5 months ago |
| Story | Letters from a Pond in Lithuania | paul_a | 0 | 10 years 5 months ago |
| Story | COVERT OPERATIONS | paul_a | 0 | 11 years 3 months ago |
| Story | Before the Fall | paul_a | 2 | 11 years 3 months ago |
| Story | As I rounded the corner late summer afternoon at fifty | paul_a | 0 | 11 years 3 months ago |
| Story | Return of the Green Tomato | paul_a | 0 | 11 years 3 months ago |
| Collection | Scattered Applause | paul_a | 0 | 11 years 3 months ago |
| Collection | The Night Soil Workers | paul_a | 0 | 11 years 3 months ago |
| Collection | Immortalized on page 127 | paul_a | 0 | 11 years 3 months ago |
| Collection | Covert Operations | paul_a | 0 | 11 years 3 months ago |
| Story | With Reference to His Early Life, No Chains and Women | paul_a | 0 | 11 years 5 months ago |
| Story | Refreshments | paul_a | 0 | 11 years 5 months ago |
| Story | Saved by the Soil | paul_a | 0 | 11 years 5 months ago |
| Story | The Splicer | paul_a | 0 | 11 years 5 months ago |
| Story | The Maze and Byron Killswater | paul_a | 0 | 11 years 5 months ago |
| Story | Love Story | paul_a | 0 | 11 years 5 months ago |
My collections
My stories
Kataskopos
Through the sky My own current cuts Red Like paint from a lunatic's brush. I am in the midst A mist Of greens and blues. Below, the land I have...
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- 4 comments
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- 1816 reads
Homesick
Over fifty years I reach for you from The high end of a piano keyboard. I Walk my fingers Towards you in a minor key. I pause a little on ebony and...
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- 2 comments
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- 815 reads
Just Add Egg
As prescribed by Ernest Dichter in 1952: Just add egg To the ready-made cake mix. No fuss. Do it yourself. A contemporary twist? Select free range,...
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- 1 comment
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- 801 reads
Letters from a Pond in Lithuania
Into the pond I toss them: a handful of torn up bits of paper marked with ink. It is a gesture like scattering seed. The first utterance, The last...
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- 416 reads
Before the Fall
You use the kind of ink that never dries.
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- 2 comments
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- 938 reads