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Visit our new blog for The Unreal here.
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Swing HighBy Donald Hubbard QuailBellMagazine.com Fat flabby arms flapping, Mabel Swing approached the section of the library dedicated to books on dogs and returned three books on the subject, like a priest holding the Body of Christ.
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[What They Get Us, So Easily, to Do]I.
Whip-smart, the Lipizzaner dances heaviness on hind-hooves, flared mane feigning joy to what music’s chosen. Bred for this, still, deep in its genes, it wishes for wider wildness, the once of the unfenced herd. I toss my own corded neck, stutter-step in place. Was a time I didn’t lift my muzzle for bribes, when I thundered from the outstretched hand, away. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
SedimentaryRed and cream rock crumbles in my hand. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
I Never Killed a FoxBy T. J. Butler QuailBellMagazine.com 1 The man and the boy were traveling through the desert. They were both away from home. The boy was glad to be with the man, and the man was glad to call the van home while he was with his boy. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
On Bodies
Some days, some months — let's be honest, probably some years -- my pants don't fit. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Creation Story
I want to live as madrone tree sheds her bark. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
The Body DonorsAs you all know, the original intent of the program was to strive for realism in our zombie films. Originally, we assumed that there would be a small sample of people donating their bodies for inclusion, but for our recent picture, The Splatter Fields, we had an overwhelming 47 people allow us to use their bodies as the rotting corpses that came back to life. While the number makes a substantive discussion of each person’s life a bit cumbersome, we did want to give a bit of background for many of the people as a kind of honor to them and “thank you” to their families. And so, we present to you the names and brief biographical sketches of the many people who appeared posthumously in The Splatter Fields.
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Mayas in the Cenote Nights are always long, and never the same. Rumors have it that the time that stretches over them and in between is linear, but it isn’t. It moves on too slowly on a whim, and then disappears all too quickly like an experiential wave followed by silence. |