Paul Bernard Fowler
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Stories (5)
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Mr. Boots
Many of you who are common patrons of the food and beverage establishment known as 'Vultures Hideaway' should now be quite familiar with one of its most honourable and dignified employees Mr. Simon Boots Esquire. Mr. Boots began his prestigious tenure at this local watering hole about three years ago becoming a very dear and trusted colleague of the late original proprietor Mr. Simon Hamilton Smith.
By Paul Bernard Fowlerabout a year ago in Writers
Into The Thickets
Meet Devin, James, and Julio three young men who have become unemployed due to the Covid Lockdowns. Being out of a job is not the only thing they have in common. In fact all three of them exhibit signs of being degenerate low lives. Instead of taking this time to improve their standing in their community they have taken it upon themselves to use elicit drugs. Specifically those of a psycho active and psychedelic nature. They have decided to undertake this course of action in hopes of gaining some sort of radical epiphany that will serve to enlighten them somehow. After purchasing the fun-time fungi our heroes debate amongst themselves as to where they should conduct their experiment.
By Paul Bernard Fowlerabout a year ago in Earth
In The Midnight Hour
Only by forces beyond my comprehension was I able to make it through the night. Throughout the midnight hour my mind was plagued with incessant existential questions. Is there any logical reason to keep going. I think not, but what can we do? We’re all just slaves to our desire for survival. We’re still primordial creatures fixated on a constant cycle of processing our nutritional, and hygienic necessities. Will technology break this curse, or will it be our downfall?
By Paul Bernard Fowlerabout a year ago in Poets
If A Wall Could Talk
Bernard Fowler If A Wall Could Talk I am composed of lath, beaverboard, cement, wood, sheet rock, and all of the other famous concoctions that have been devised by the architect, the carpenter, and all of the other secret spells of modern industry. I was created in the happy and jazzy year of 1925. The first people I was to be introduced, and a committed witness too were always pairs of rugged men in hard hats. However, though there were also still men who would visit me who gave off the stench of a private high class university education, they would go along the interior checking out the other walls with a paper that had a bunch of baby blue scribbles on it.
By Paul Bernard Fowler3 years ago in Families
