You are currently browsing the category archive for the ‘Books’ category.
Category Archive
Bobby’s Chop Shop
December 15, 2006 in 299 Words, Books, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Literature, novels, Poetry, reading, Short stories, Stories, Very Short Novels, Writing | Tags: Car, Crime, Joke, Theft | by davidbdale | 3 comments
So picture this. Crossing the bridge in this nearly-new Buick I got from Bobby’s chop shop special order? Windows down, Halloween wind, I’ve got a finger on the button that puts up the windows. Read the rest of this entry »
Neat Stitches
December 14, 2006 in 299 Words, Books, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Literature, novels, Poetry, reading, Short stories, Stories, Very Short Novels, Writing | Tags: Charity, Conscience, Generosity, Guilt | by davidbdale | 7 comments
He wasn’t doing enough and he knew it. To live was hard—not impossible, but hard—knowing how little he was doing. However well he did the indispensable work for which he was appreciated and renowned, there were others who did it better, Read the rest of this entry »
Carry the Zero
December 11, 2006 in 299 Words, Books, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Literature, novels, Poetry, reading, Short stories, Stories, Very Short Novels, Writing | Tags: Age, Daughter, Forget, Loss, Memory | by davidbdale | 5 comments
Sometimes it seems inconceivable I should be the age I am. When sunlight through the atrium bakes us in the common room like tacos under a heat lamp, I stop counting the days I do remember and consider this scene before me. Read the rest of this entry »
Holes in the Sand
December 7, 2006 in 299 Words, Books, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Literature, novels, Poetry, reading, Short stories, Stories, Very Short Novels, Writing | Tags: Kill, Politics, Terror, War | by davidbdale | 14 comments
The brain has a fuse. After years of threat and terror, the fuse blows, leaving a scar behind, a charred little plug of matter, once animated tissue. It can make a person mean. Read the rest of this entry »
The Mural Project
December 4, 2006 in 299 Words, Books, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Literature, novels, Poetry, reading, Short stories, Stories, Very Short Novels, Writing | Tags: Art, Child, Death, Society | by davidbdale | 5 comments
Rain gathers first along the edges of flat rooftops, pooling in the small depressions, sheeting along the slick flashing until it overfills the bead along the outside corner and trickles onto the building face, Read the rest of this entry »
Kama Sutra for Beginners
December 2, 2006 in 299 Words, Books, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Literature, novels, Poetry, reading, Short stories, Stories, Very Short Novels, Writing | Tags: Epiphany, Eye Contact, Love, Sex | by davidbdale | 43 comments
I stayed inside her for a very long time. Propped on elbows, I let my rhythm slow, listened to our breath like bending trees and felt my heart keep time. Read the rest of this entry »
Tips for Better Golf
November 29, 2006 in 299 Words, Books, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Literature, novels, Poetry, reading, Short stories, Stories, Very Short Novels, Writing | Tags: Class, Status | by davidbdale | 3 comments
Long before the godsend which is the golf cart, the caddies were on borrowed time. Their insinuations on topics irrelevant to our game rubbed us the wrong way. Read the rest of this entry »
Killer Ending
November 24, 2006 in 299 Words, Books, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Literature, novels, Poetry, reading, Short stories, Stories, Very Short Novels, Writing | Tags: Brother, Death, Grave, Horror, Kill, Killer, Murder, Mystery, Novel, Sibling, Violence | by davidbdale | 16 comments
If ghosts could kill themselves, they would. I have it on good authority. They long to be here or there. Neither body nor yet pure light, they are shadows on the houses they lived in. Read the rest of this entry »
Sun Comes Sidewise
November 20, 2006 in 299 Words, Books, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Literature, novels, Poetry, Short stories, Stories, Very Short Novels, Writing | Tags: Destiny, God, Son, Universe | by davidbdale | 4 comments
I am my own god and when on the eighth day I wake to survey the universe I have wrought and baited to snare the helpless unsuspecting and extract from them their thanks, I find it sprung by circumstance. Read the rest of this entry »
Dream Toddlers
November 16, 2006 in 299 Words, Books, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Literature, novels, Poetry, reading, Short stories, Stories, Very Short Novels, Writing | Tags: Art, Boss, Child, Convict, Dream, Museum, Work | by davidbdale | 7 comments
Children may dream, but they don’t dream as we do. They live in the angled brightness we only escape to in sleep. When they say: I had a dream, they might mean: Mommie told me. Read the rest of this entry »
Very Short Novels 
Recent Comments