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The Technology of Nature
By Raymond Greiner
QuailBellMagazine.com
The year was 2020. Phil Gordon was twenty-four, and had grown up in an upper middle class urban environment. He excelled academically, achieving a degree in computer science seeking a career in technology. Tech Solutions, a prominent software-consulting firm located in Los Angeles employed Phil.
The firm’s director Jim Anderson admired Phil’s technological skills and they worked well together. Jim is the coordinator, communicating with customers discussing problems and needs. Phil was the go to guy, traveling to assigned locations seeking solutions and making recommendations. One morning between jobs Jim called Phil into his office. “Phil, I received a message from the National Weather Service. They have a remote station in interior Alaska and are experiencing complications with satellite tracking systems, they want us to take a look and make recommendations. Are you up for this?” The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Hard Copy
Whoever esteems some sterile screen pixelated e-i-o-Reader
more highly than a tactile textured text, a book with binding never held a poetry anthology like I am now in my lap stroking The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Spring Ivy Party
By Gregg Dotoli
QuailBellMagazine.com
hiving evergreen oak
dawn excited grey finches The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Curse
Words by Sri Ram
Image byGretchen Gales @GGalesQuailBell QuailBellMagazine.com *Editor's Note: First appeared in the Literary Yard.
The midnight looked ignited with slight snow outside, yet, Penelope could not sleep on her cot. She tried music for some time, reading Stephen King for some more, rose up from bed and walked within the four walls, and tried many such tricks yet, sleep was quite far from her. She thought, walking outside under the snow, would be something different to try. She wore her night suit and her slippers and instead of taking the hall-way, she opened her window and jumped out.
The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
What Is It?
When I look into your blue eyes,
what is it I see? It is the beauty of your precious soul staring back at me. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
(Do You Know Me) In Kentucky
By Jean Owens
QuailBellMagazine.com I was walking in the Café Sat down, at the table Watching outside the right window The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Poetry by Joanna Valente
EVERYONE HATES EVERYONE
I didn’t pick up when you called me that night because I thought you were drunk The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
River
The ideal was blue and clear; But the river had always been Dark. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Raspberry Jam
By Keiran Rundle
QuailBellMagazine.com
I ate raspberry jam on warm buttered toast the delight of the red crunched with the crust of the bread and every morning I boarded the bombarding yellow school bus -plastered with dirt caked and crunchy like the edges of my toast- with a wide smile that had little red raspberry clumps in between my teeth and butter on my breath as I took on seventh grade. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
recipe for atonement
By Shereen Lee
QuailBellMagazine.com
you find the bland numbness of too many
words in my mouth again. |