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paulo da costa
Category Archives: Stories – G&P
Flies
Foot raised on the shoe?box, Senhor Osório sat at the entrance to the tavern enjoying the overdue shine. The question mark of his cane supported his thoughts as he rested his chin on the wrinkled knuckles clasping the wood. … Continue reading →
Not Written in Pencil
Arial and I weren’t bad people or nothing, just different spark plugs misfiring under the same hood. It’s like this. Arial lived for now. I lived for tomorrow’s bills. I‘m not thinking she exemplified a young case of Alzheimer’s or … Continue reading →
The Green and Purple Skin of the World
Dear B, Quinta da Garrida, courtyard three weeks The morning yawns and sighs in the lungs of the birds. I begin the day on the front steps, in my bathrobe, blowing soap bubbles. The birds’ harmonies melt the thin … Continue reading →
My Real Mother Would Never
From “My Real Mother Would Never” (The Green and Purple Skin of the World) by paulo da costa: I didn’t plan on running away. It happened. You stare at me from down the street, and when we cross paths, you … Continue reading →
Immortality
Vera rummaged in the wood crate overflowing with fluffy moss she and her brother had collected that morning in the pine woods behind her parents’ riverside home. The moss’s cool softness dampened her fingers. After careful inspection, she found … Continue reading →