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The Castle House

Posted by Paul McCall on April 16, 2019 at 4:30 AM Comments comments (0)

CASTLE HOUSE

Paul J. McCall



 

 

Another freshly printed page of dialog, reviewed and found guilty of crimes against prose, crushed into a small tight ball followed the pages before it. Rejected and receiving the same judgment and the same verdict, the sentence now carried out; a long toss to the far side of the office, going for yet another three points, an air ball, straight into the...

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The Acquaintance

Posted by Paul McCall on April 14, 2019 at 10:00 AM Comments comments (0)

This is a short story I'm working on that came to me in a dream I had.


Found myself driving through my old home town awhile back, and it turned out to be a trip down memory lane.

 

I cruised slowly down Main Street and noticed the old gym where I made my first attempt at boxing, it was still in business.

 

I pulled into a parking spot and just sat in my car and thought about it for a while. I decided to pop in and...

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THE SHORT RIDE

Posted by Paul McCall on August 20, 2015 at 10:00 PM Comments comments (0)

 

 

As a Viet Nam veteran, I’m relieved how attitudes about Viet Nam veterans, have improved since my discharged from the Marine Corps in the summer of 1969.

I can recall how, in 1967 and 1968, when I was in Viet Nam, the U. S. military indulged in censorship to prevent negative news, back home, from reaching the troops. When my tour of duty was up, in the summer of 1968, I was sent home for a long deserved four, or was it six-week leave.

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ASIB

Posted by Paul McCall on August 4, 2015 at 12:40 AM Comments comments (0)



When engaged in severe fighting a soldier must find suitable cover. Having been ambushed, I look for better cover and see a soldier make a run for it. A sniper finds his mark, and the soldier goes down hard and lays motionless.

I figured the sniper must be reloading so I test my luck and make a run for the better cover then, my lights go out.


I wake with no idea how long I have been laying here. I can still hear, the sounds of battle have died a...

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WHY

Posted by Paul McCall on July 18, 2015 at 2:10 PM Comments comments (0)

What occurred since the day, we happened to be crossing the same lawn when we first met? I traveled all this way to see you and now you cannot find time for me. I believed that you were serious that day when you said that you wanted to help me. I thought we both had been fortunately surprised when we bumped into each other, it seemed like fate had somehow been involved.

Before that day, we were just two strangers walking across a lawn when our paths crossed. I wasn't myself that day, I ...

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A Man I Knew

Posted by Paul McCall on June 2, 2015 at 6:00 AM Comments comments (0)

A man who loved life more than any person I have known, who was looking forward to his ninety-first birthday, which happen to be April 4, 2015, was, struck down by a massive stroke some time Tuesday night March 31 or Wednesday April 1 while he slept. He lingered at Milford Hospital in Milford MA as all his family members and friends could only await the terrible inevitable.

 

Glen R. Dowen married my mother, Irene when I was about thirteen, which would have been around 1962....

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Reminiscing

Posted by Paul McCall on December 18, 2014 at 9:25 PM Comments comments (0)

At times when I shave in the morning, I can’t help realizing the old man that I have become. After all, there he is looking back at me through the mirror, mimicking my every move, I think sometimes mocking me. I lean forward; he leans forward, reciprocally studying my face as I study his. I'm surprised at times when tears well up in my eyes and I begin to choke up as I think back on the many wrong turns I have made on the road for success, success I never found. Then I look again as a s...

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HONESTY

Posted by Paul McCall on February 6, 2013 at 1:35 PM Comments comments (0)

 

HONESTY

 

Paul J. McCall

 

In 1954, I was six years old, one bright and sunny June day my mother taught me a lifelong lesson. She brought me along grocery shopping. The “First National” was the grocery store where she did her shopping. It was only ten or fifteen minutes away by car from our home and located on ro...

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LITTLE WAIF

Posted by Paul McCall on February 5, 2013 at 5:05 PM Comments comments (0)

LITTLE WAIF


Hazel J. Hollander



A poor little waif was trodding alone.

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SOOTY

Posted by Paul McCall on February 2, 2013 at 11:55 AM Comments comments (0)

SOOTY


Paul J. McCall

 

 

In the nineteen fifties, my family lived in Natick, Massachusetts. We had a small house on the shores of Jennings Pond. Neighbors in those days were mostly friendly, but one pair of neighbors stand out in my memory the most, the Flannerys. My parents were good friends wit...

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I WISHED YOU WELL

Posted by Paul McCall on December 9, 2012 at 12:10 AM Comments comments (0)

I WISHED YOU WELL


Paul J. McCall

 

 

I saw you tonight, when I came to your ward, you looked younger you had your hair done; it was parted on the right side, long and straight to your shoulders. Your face looked so beautiful; your complexion was smooth and fresh. You had little eye makeup, just a touch of eyebrow pencil. You were wearing a...

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DYSLEXIA

Posted by Paul McCall on December 8, 2012 at 5:15 PM Comments comments (0)

DYSLEXIA AND ME


Paul J. McCall

 

 

 

I knew I had a problem when I was very young and that was a very long time ago. When I was in elementary school, dyslexia did not seem to be in the dictionary. At that time (I’m talking in the...

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THE ALARM

Posted by Paul McCall on December 6, 2012 at 12:55 AM Comments comments (0)

THE ALARM


Paul J. McCall

 

 

Two forty-five past midnight, a light sleeper, Paul is awakened by the distant, and increasingly stronger, rushing sound of the late night freight train. Just as the rumbling of the train reaches its loudest, it rudely interrupts the slumbering p...

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JIM AND THE BULL

Posted by Paul McCall on December 6, 2012 at 12:50 AM Comments comments (1)

JIM AND THE BULL


Paul J. McCall

 

 

Jim was seventeen; Elves Presley handsome and already he loved to drink. Our family lived on a crumbling farm in Hopedale, Massachusetts. One afternoon in the summer of 1969 Jim had a few of his fellow indulgers with him on the patio in our back yard. Getting bored Jim and his drinking buddies decided to...

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