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Photography of Wess A. Haubrich
Images by Wess A. Haubrich
QuailBellMagazine.com
#Unreal #Photography #Cemeteries #Statues #Angels #Visual
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Staying Afloat
By Tuulia Tamminen
QuailBellMagazine.com
In a grey morning's gaze
I wake up and see my feet moving under my blanket. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Another California Murder Mystery
By Helen Reed Lehman
QuailBellMagazine.com *Editor's Note: This is the sequel to "California Murder Mystery."
In a beach town called El Encino, two lovers left their apartment drove to the office of a Justice of the Peace, and got married. Their names were Tyler Clarksdale and Teri Byron.Tyler was the first African-American sheriff the county had. Teri was the paid companion of Elliot Burns, famous for having directed film noir movies, in the 1940's and 50's. Teri and Tyler had invited many friends and colleagues to the wedding. Elliot Burns was there. He was in a wheelchair, piloted by Tom Duncan.
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Mulogooli's Journey
By Cynthia Abdallah
QuailBellMagazine.com
It was not usual for me to spend time with Grandpa. He was getting old now, his brown colored eyes behind his glasses revealing a tiredness that could only have come with old age. Grandpa was also beginning to lose his eye sight. His left eye could not see but the right eye with the help of his glasses guided his wobbly footsteps . I remember that sunny afternoon in April, when he appeared at our gates on Egri's motorbike, his black briefcase in his left hand, his brown cow boy hat resting firmly on his balding head. The hat had two straps on each side and Grandpa had carefully tucked the straps behind his ears and tied them loosely together under his chin. His legs shook as he walked and his handshake was weak and unsteady. But, there was something about him that had not been erased by time and by old age. Something that had stood the test of time. His laughter. A laughter that sounded like that of a man riding a motorbike in his chest, a laughter that carried with it something intangible yet warm and welcoming, a laughter that made his Adam's apple recede back into the now loose skin on his neck whenever he laughed.
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A Cry in the Dim Part of the Hall
By Keith Moul
QuailBellMagazine.com
Gus sits in a beige puddle
of light, radiating through the bay-window shades. His neck bends stiffly for its old sleep like a fruit tree with too much nurturing. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
A Walk By a Field
Words and Artwork by Tuulia Tamminen
QuailBellMagazine.com
The hay rises to meet the air
and its breeze Fields are waves towards the horizon that flying creatures live by The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Warp
The two capsules, 6 feet long and 2 feet wide, kept next to each other, on the floor of the advanced cryostasis chamber were open already. Marks of wet footsteps on the floor ran from the tail of the capsules to the window. With time they were to slowly smudge. At the window, Mark and Lisi, saw, their space ship awaited for them, at the foot of a huge hill, on the solid rocks of planet BB143, several light years away from the earth-like planet, Kepler 22ZA.
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Concealer
The most oppressed person on this earth is the one whose femininity is unveiled.
Veil those eyes my child Walk behind me In my footsteps. Take notice, child – Your eyes are mine Until I give you to another. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Somewhere I Lived
Somewhere small at first, room only for the beginnings of a family, anything else billowing out
the windows, flooding the front lawn whatever the color of possibility, ineffable joy, love all together is. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
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