|By: Paul S. Cilwa||Viewed: 12/15/2018
||Topics/Keywords: #SpeculativeFiction #Humor #ShortShortStories #OriginalFiction||Page Views: 1261|
|Short Stories of Paul S. Cilwa|
Here are some samples of my short fiction. Most of it is humorous. All of it will make you think.
Before the Winter Comes
|By: Paul S. Cilwa||Topics: #ShortStories||Page Views: 824|
|What happens when the lifeguard is unable to save the girl?|
He drops to the sand, liking the sensation produced by the sudden stiffening of the ground as his weight hits it, followed by its softening when he releases the pressure. Idly he traces the outline of a car with his toe, then stands back and inspects it and the rainbow reflecting on the wet sand around it.
Brian and the Pot of Gold
|By: Paul S. Cilwa||Topics: #ReligiousPolitics #SpiritualityShortStories||Page Views: 925|
|I won my eighth grade writing contest with this tale!|
Brian was startled. The leprechaun's pot of gold had been the thought farthest from his mind when he had helped Paddy. Obviously the little man had the wrong idea of humans. Perhaps he had met a few greedy people, and thought that they all were that way.
|By: Paul S. Cilwa||Topics: #ReligiousPolitics #Spirituality #ShortStories||Page Views: 1125|
|What if you got to Heaven…and found that you didn't like it?|
Emily looked up. The light of God was so intense it could be seen through the ceiling. "'No one can look at the Face of God and live,'" she quoted. "But I'm dead. Someone needs to tell Jesus what's going on here before it's too late."
|By: Paul S. Cilwa||Topics: #ShortStory #Humor||Page Views: 1120|
|A gender-reversal send-up of the Gary Cooper classic.|
Morning dawned fair and quiet…quieter than usual, since most of the townsfolk had moved away during the night. With their sheriff dead, Desolation wasn't going to be worth living in.
Suited For The Job
|By: Paul S. Cilwa||Topics: #ShortStories #Humor||Page Views: 934|
|Carlos needed the job…but somehow, he just felt like a clown.|
He had to admit he looked a little wild. It was his hair, basically. He had none on top, but the hair at the sides of his head was long and luxurious. It wasn't subtle hair, either; it was bright red and Carlo had always worn it brushed out for maximum effect. But, looking critically in the mirror, Carlo had to admit that it just made him look like all the other clowns who tried to compensate for baldness by growing it where it could be grown.
The Fly and I
|By: Paul S. Cilwa||Topics: #Poetry||Page Views: 819|
|A fight to the finish.|
Around the breakfast table On a cool September day, A common housefly buzzing —Buzzing, buzzing, buzzing— A common housefly buzzing, Where all the dishes lay.