Paul Aaron Domenick
Bio
“I am mine. Before I am ever anyone else’s.” --Nayyirah Waheed
“Publication is the auction of the mind of man.” --Emily Dickinson
“Writing is utter solitude, the descent into the cold abyss of oneself.” --Franz Kafka
Stories (24)
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Milk of the Earth
The mahogany trees in Sierra Leone cracked under the worrying sun. Joseph trekked, kicking up dirt with porous sandals. His newborn daughter, Hawa, was cradled against his bare chest, suckling at his nipple. Wincing, he fixed a woven, white cloth over her head.
By Paul Aaron Domenick12 days ago in Fiction
The Easter Hat
“Is your mother going to come with your Easter hat?” his kindergarten teacher asked him, almost accusingly. Joshua shrugged his shoulders. He put his right forefinger up to his mouth and uttered a single cough. He scratched his head and slumped his shoulders, walking to a folding table with premade hats.
By Paul Aaron Domenick21 days ago in Fiction
The Photographer's Code
You decide to visit your local park. You have become a close confidant to the homeless people who gather there most days. While talking to Cleo and Reed, you notice a new face in the crowd. It belongs to a stick-thin, middle-aged woman. She has her hand on her forehead as if taking her temperature.
By Paul Aaron Domenick23 days ago in Photography
