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Category Archive
Shadow Brother
August 5, 2010 in 299 Words, Adoption, Childhood, Culture, Danger, Family, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Fugitive, Immigrant, Literature, novels, Orphans, Parent, Refugee, Runaway, Short stories, Society, Very Short Novels, Violence, writers, Writing | by davidbdale | 25 comments
He’s not always easy to see. I can be talking to him in my room on a rainy afternoon with the radio playing and sharing a blueberry pie, and my dad will open the bedroom door and Deuce’ll be gone and it looks like I’m eating a pie by myself and talking to the radio. Read the rest of this entry »
Borrowed Luggage
August 17, 2009 in 299 Words, Escape, Family, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Immigrant, Refugee, Short stories, Stories, Very Short Novels, Writing | Tags: Culture, Danger, Family, Poverty, Safety, Shame, Yearning | by davidbdale | 4 comments
A simple man named Abraham Kosofsky watched his tiny town of Berezovka grow tinier every day. Fannie, he asked his wife, What will become of us when all our neighbors are carried away by this coughing fit and buried? Read the rest of this entry »
Welcome Signs
August 24, 2008 in 299 Words, Crime, Culture, Family, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Health, How-To, Immigrant, Literature, Medicine, novels, Politics, Security, Short stories, Society, Stories, Travel, Very Short Novels, Writing | by davidbdale | 4 comments
The sign at the border with firm politeness welcomes me in my own language. I take it on faith it doesn’t play favorites but welcomes readers of other languages with equal grace, though why it thinks the Chinese will follow this road here I can’t imagine. 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 »
Heart Is Killing
December 20, 2007 in 299 Words, Family, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Immigrant, language, novels, Separation, Short stories, Stories, Very Short Novels, Writing | Tags: Family, Immigrant, language, Separation, translation, Yearning | by davidbdale | 5 comments
Dear mother, father dear sisters, dear wife, babies I am not sadness dying. That pain does not kill me. The stronger is making me I am sure when I work too long if I will ever come back. You send me everything from your letters that home is new. You are spending my money I hope. Read the rest of this entry »
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