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Category Archive
Small News
December 23, 2010 in 299 Words, Culture, Fable, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Security, Short stories, Society, Stories, Technology, Very Short Novels, Writing | by davidbdale | 20 comments
I bought the newspaper out of pity before I boarded the local. It felt thin, and looked like nothing new. I swiped my card near the fare box and at the same time watched myself do so on a monitor showing me from behind, shot by the camera above the door. Read the rest of this entry »
Machete Smile
March 28, 2010 in 299 Words, Business, Culture, Danger, Destiny, Fable, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Mystery, Short stories, Stories, Travel, Very Short Novels, Violence, Writing | Tags: machete island vacation | by davidbdale | 8 comments
I picked it up on a minor island, the one with the grimy harborfront, I think, and the spine of useless mountains like a broken back along its northern coast as if it had been stepped on. Read the rest of this entry »
Bob’s Double
January 14, 2010 in 299 Words, Business, Destiny, Entertainment, Fable, Fiction, Flash Fiction, novels, Occupation, Philosophy, Short stories, Stories, Very Short Novels, Writing | Tags: Destiny, Identity, Loss, Performance, Philosophy | by davidbdale | 9 comments
We hired a double for Bob so that the Bob the world required could be places Bob could not be. We oversucceeded. Immediately, Bob was a fraud. Read the rest of this entry »
Unscheduled Stops
December 28, 2009 in 299 Words, Destiny, Escape, Fable, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Literature, Mind, Mystery, Runaway, Separation, Short stories, Stories, Very Short Novels, Writing | Tags: Coffee, Snow, Train, Travel | by davidbdale | 8 comments
The 5:42 to Belgenhagen left the station without our engineer. He chased it desultorily to the end of the platform waving his pastry in vain at the empty locomotive car as we pulled out from the shed into the icy dawn with certain questions. Read the rest of this entry »
How the Kite Got its Tail
August 6, 2008 in 299 Words, Culture, Entertainment, Fable, Family, Fiction, Flash Fiction, How-To, Literature, novels, Science, Short stories, Stories, Technology, Very Short Novels, Writing | by davidbdale | 6 comments
Nature didn’t stand a chance against ruthless inventor Volante Volanti. By carving a simple channel through a gentle rise, he changed the course of a river for the noblemen he served, thus moving the border between two city-states and annexing to his benefactors’ gain the fragrant fields of the left bank valley, its shining marble quarries and the towns wherein their bitterest rivals quartered and trained. Read the rest of this entry »
Full Body Massage
February 22, 2008 in 299 Words, Business, Entertainment, Fable, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Health, How-To, Immigrant, Politics, Short stories, Stories, Very Short Novels, Writing | Tags: Body, Bull, Business, Destiny, Epiphany, Generosity, Mercy, Moment, Myth, Shame, Touch | by davidbdale | 9 comments
He will be more difficult to satisfy than a man who only thinks he is a bull. That is Sunny’s opinion and she’s an expert. I keep my opinion to myself. I’ve not been in this country long enough to speak. With my diary, though, I’m fearless, and in my dreams, I revel in inexcusable deeds. Read the rest of this entry »
Thanksgiving
November 3, 2007 in 299 Words, Fable, Family, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Food, Short stories, Stories, Very Short Novels, Writing | Tags: Family, Fantasy, Food, Holiday, Horror, Satire | by davidbdale | 15 comments
She was our youngest and tender-hearted (tender, in fact, throughout) and therefore hard to eat. All through the lengthening day, the aroma tempted us to open the oven and peek, to pluck at the crisping skin, to let just a bit of her escape. Read the rest of this entry »
Father Figure
August 28, 2007 in 299 Words, Fable, Family, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Literature, Patricide, Short stories, Stories, Very Short Novels, Writing | Tags: Child, Fable, Father, Murder, Myth | by davidbdale | 12 comments
He sits in a chair of his own design, hewn from local timber. Arms laid like lumber on the armrests, trunk immobile, head erect, eyes at rest, he sees and judges who passes before him. Mostly, that’s us. Read the rest of this entry »
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