Evan Quinlan

Allegory In Bronze

In Drabbles, Fiction, Short Stories on December 17, 2017 at 3:14 pm

She read about the brazen bull, an ancient Greek torture device that transformed screams into music, and her neck hairs stood on end. People could be so horrible to each other. That night, though she often slept badly due to chronic pains and anxieties, she fell deeply into a dream: Greek soldiers forced her into the brazen bull, but instead of a bronze enclosure heated by coals, the bull contained the entire world.

In the morning, though her body ached, she sang in the shower. She would follow the example of the brazen bull and transform her pain into song.

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The Golem’s Nature

In Haiku on December 17, 2017 at 2:57 pm

Though its limbs are stone
Its will to live is greater
Than the weight of them

Skyward Circle

In Drabbles, Fiction, Short Stories on November 6, 2017 at 10:05 pm

Each night she waits for me in the vineyard, her face in starlight.

I’m in pain, she explains.

I know, I say, and I uncork the bottle.

We don’t often drink the wine we produce—that would be a vicious circle! Instead, we drink other people’s wine, stomp drunkenly on our own grapes until they become wine, then sell that to afford even more wine.

Tell us it’s wrong. Go ahead, try! We’ll taunt you from our viny hideaway, jeering, giggling and crying in unison.

We’ll remain unkempt. We’ll dance away merrily and howl at the moon.

This is love.