Paul Stewart
Bio
Award-Winning Writer, Poet, Scottish-Italian, Subversive.
The Accidental Poet - Poetry Collection out now!
Streams and Scratches in My Mind coming soon!
Achievements (30)
Stories (1333)
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Love as Consumption
I could feel it in the pit of my stomach. That inevitable crush. I knew as soon as I walked through the door, we’d have words — stern, unproductive words. The atmosphere choked me, the scent of Bolognese burned into the bottom of the pan reminding me why it’s best I do the cooking, and of the air of unfiltered bitterness that had been present for years.
By Paul Stewarta day ago in Fiction
The Lesions of Devotion . Top Story - February 2026.
Every day I set myself down on the freshly cut lawn and strip myself bare. I take my guitar and finger the frets and pick at the strings, listening for dissonance. My life is dissonance. I twist the tuning pegs until each string sounds bright. Then I kneel, calves pointing behind me, kneecaps facing forward. All exposed to the breeze. I close my eyes and play the melody.
By Paul Stewart5 days ago in Fiction
Craftation in the Garden of Literary Delights
In the garden of earthly delights where beauty meets debauchery. That’s where we sit and discuss it all. Craft without catharsis. Our protagonist thought long and hard about the prospect. I imagine them — or us, if you envision yourself as one of them — waiting like those in that play of waiting and existentialism. We’re always waiting, and even when waiting doesn’t explicitly carry emotion, it’s there. How do you remove the release necessary to create something others will connect with?
By Paul Stewart6 days ago in Fiction
Blips
Dark Memoirs - Index Wait. The mushroom tattoo. Was that not an earlier victim? I am not sure. I have had blips in the early days of my vocational work. Blips when sanity checks afterwards forced me to close systems that should never have been open circuits in the first place.
By Paul Stewart9 days ago in Chapters
Still Life with Woman
Despite my youth and supposed good health, I had recently felt under the weather. In recent days, to be precise, I had felt my body slowly seizing up, heavier. It started in my fingers and toes: a loss of the freedom of movement expected for those digits at the extremities of my healthy body. Not exactly painful, but neither was it a piece of cake. After a day of that, I retired to bed, expecting to wake fully refreshed and better the next day.
By Paul Stewart14 days ago in Fiction
