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MicrowaveBy Andrew Boswell QuailBellMagazine.com Part 1: For Elusive Reasons
It's not every day you find out that your brother died. It's also not every day that you get to ask him about it. Yes, my brother came back from the dead; and yes, I felt an overwhelming need to write about it. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Mehmet the MadBy Edward Ahern QuailBellMagazine.com This adaptation of a marvelously rambling tale is sourced from the 1919 printing of Tales Alive in Turkey published by E.P. Dutton. This edition is almost impossible to find, but both Harvard University and Texas Tech have published reprints which are available. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Bending InI walked back toward the fissures-gleaming, elbowed white with dense braided and dry skin. So much like mine. I touched something that I had not felt before and suddenly I desired it. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
EnchatedWords and Image by Preeti Singh QuailBellMagazine.com Infatuated to dark, its enchanting I never fell this strong before The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
A fall in dustFallen in dust, I am toppled in dirt Hands filled with mud I cant stand still The pull is harsh Stronger than my will I wish to get out But I fail to breathe It's dirty here Thirst drenches Hunger crawls I am knocked out The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
House ArrestWords and Image by Preeti Singh QuailBellMagazine.com A house broke down, a wall cracked up All buried under the muddy debris The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Berry BledGlittering, anew. Against scorched earth beating beneath the sun. Foaming at the mouth. I offer my neck for your table chop. I am nothing if not reduced to a sizzle wet beneath the hot sky The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Seventy-Eight is Not OldClaire tried to read as she sat, head down, in the waiting room. She wanted her appointment to be over with right away. As she read, she could make no sense of the first page of the new James Patterson novel. Finally, she closed the book with a triumphant thump and looked around. Blue Sky Psychotherapy had a variety of people seeking answers from so-called professionals. A man in an upholstered blue chair like her own had his eyes closed. Was he asleep? Next to him was a woman with a blue rinse who drummed her fingers on the arms of her chair.
I’m not the only one who doesn’t know what the hell she’s doing, thought Claire. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Demon Dog“Ugh! What a time to get a bladder infection,” Julie groaned. “It’s my damn birthday, and I’ve been up all night peeing!” Her husband flicked on the lights a few minutes later. “Come on, get up sleepyhead. It’s your special day,” he grinned. “Happy 26th birthday.” The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Tuesday Night Figure Drawing at the Community CenterAs the space heater thrums, Brenda shrugs off her cotton robe and drops it on the ottoman, rolling her shoulders like a pitcher and catching Gene’s eye from under the brim of his cap. Gene touches his glasses, brushes his hand through his hair, then drops his hands and eyes to his lap. In the high-ceilinged studio, Brenda shimmers purple, goose-bumped from her shoulders to her thighs. She crosses her arms and looks at Sue, the monitor. |