You are currently browsing the category archive for the ‘Nuclear Family’ category.
Category Archive
First Will and Testament
July 15, 2010 in 299 Words, Adoption, Child, Childhood, Death, Destiny, Family, Fiction, Haunting, Health, Life, Love, Medicine, Nuclear Family, Short stories, Stories, Very Short Novels, Writing | Tags: Bequest, inheritance, medicine, will | by davidbdale | 27 comments
Some of my stuff I want to keep after I’m dead, but Ariel can pick out three things from my toy-box, not three of the same things, like not three ponies, or not even two insects, but a pony and an insect and a piece of furniture would be good, and she can ride my bike when she’s big enough. Read the rest of this entry »
Trade Rumors
August 1, 2009 in 299 Words, Childhood, Dialogue, Family, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Humor, Nuclear Family, Short stories, Very Short Novels, Writing | Tags: Baseball, Business, Child, Dialogue, Family, Father, Son, Truth | by davidbdale | 7 comments
—Dad, are you trying to trade me?
—What would make you say that?
—Mister Moyer said you offered me for his daughter.
—Not just his daughter, son. That was a package deal.
Read the rest of this entry »
The Yellow Pages
June 19, 2009 in 299 Words, Family, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Marriage, Nuclear Family, Relationships, Short stories, Stories, Very Short Novels, Writing | Tags: Child, Family, Parent, Regret, Separation | by davidbdale | 7 comments
Had they been a less practical couple, my parents might have had children by accident. Instead, one night, before I was born, at the wobbly table in the breakfast nook, Dad drew a line down a page of yellow paper Read the rest of this entry »
Overpromised Heart
April 20, 2008 in 299 Words, Baby, Childhood, Entertainment, Escape, Family, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Life, Literature, Love, novels, Nuclear Family, Poetry, Short stories, Stories, Very Short Novels, Writing | Tags: Baby, Daughter, Destiny, Embrace, Fear, Mother, Parent, Regret, Separation, Wife | by davidbdale | 5 comments
I promised my daughter my heart, forgetting it wasn’t mine. You were there, fat with her, already weary of the burden and beautiful, intolerably beautiful. You made demands: a hairbrush, a mirror, not that hairbrush, ice yes but not ice chips, a delivery date— Read the rest of this entry »
Fat with Promise
January 30, 2008 in 299 Words, Baby, Birth, Family, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Life, Love, Marriage, Nuclear Family, Pregnancy, Short stories, Stories, Very Short Novels, Writing | Tags: Beauty, Child, Hope, Love, Lovers, Marriage, Monologue, Parent, Pregnant, Weep, Yearning | by davidbdale | 7 comments
I cried on the elevator, then over lunch and later at my desk. It’s funny now. They call me Weeping Will. Weeping Will stands looking at people who know him and though nothing they do is different today Read the rest of this entry »
How You Will Live Your Life
January 17, 2008 in 299 Words, Books, Family, Fiction, Flash Fiction, How-To, Humor, Life, Nuclear Family, Politics, Short stories, Stories, Very Short Novels, Writing | Tags: Parent, Politics, Sibling, Speech | by davidbdale | 6 comments
The kids formed a new government yesterday after the briefest of campaigns. “Who’s bigger?” was one campaign pledge. “I’ll tell Mom,” was another. Ballots were cast verbally, sometimes face-down in the carpet, and claims of voter intimidation were resolved internally by the poll boss. Read the rest of this entry »
Baby’s Empty Bed
January 15, 2008 in 299 Words, Books, Family, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Life, Love, Nuclear Family, Short stories, Stories, Very Short Novels, Writing | Tags: Baby, Childhood, Family, Fear, Home, Love, Memory, Sibling | by davidbdale | 11 comments
The humid summer heat was murderous. Every year one or two were killed in our town, cooked in their rooms. At our house on the avenue, a fan in the attic drew refreshment from the night through our open bedroom windows and pulled the hot air up the attic stairs. Read the rest of this entry »
Invention of Love
September 5, 2007 in 299 Words, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Nuclear Bomb, Nuclear Family, Short stories, Stories, Very Short Novels, Writing | Tags: Discipline, Family, Father, Holiday, Love, Son | by davidbdale | 5 comments
We were born and nearly raised by the time love was invented. Just after the big bombs went off, it was, when parents went looking for hope and found it in their suddenly nuclear families. Read the rest of this entry »
Very Short Novels 
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