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Rumors of my death are only slightly exaggerated, son. I’m so close to dying I taste ashes. There’s little time for me to atone for a lifetime of neglect—of you, I mean; I didn’t neglect much—but, no matter, this should do it. It’s more than a will; it’s your life from here forward. Read the rest of this entry »

They have me locked up for something I didn’t do, which is lucky. If they had convicted me for the job I did pull, I’d be doing hard time somewhere real. Read the rest of this entry »

The light is good in Interrogation A. Not so bright I can’t think. And it doesn’t buzz like those godawful fluorescents in B that made it so hard to remember the truth. I’ve been here since yesterday. They’re starting to like me. Read the rest of this entry »

I don’t know how long he’s been supposedly dead. Nobody will tell me. They don’t like me doing research either, but he’s all I ever overheard about. He’s the most exciting relative I never met. Read the rest of this entry »

First of all, I’m not saying whether I saw anything or not unless I already know you, be that as it may, but on top of that, why you’re asking me is what I want to know, with those fake-looking credentials. Read the rest of this entry »

Talk about irony, four of us will get off because five of us are guilty. The teller knows us to look at us, or thinks she does, knows all five of us. She could point to anyone and be correct but the situation blinds her. Read the rest of this entry »

He wanders past the boarded-up businesses in town with a look of guilty surprise, as if he’d been tapped on the shoulder while spying on something he shouldn’t have seen, startled behind binoculars, and never bounced back from the shock. Read the rest of this entry »

His mother never wanted him, but at his most notorious he was the second (and the eighth) most wanted man (also the eleventh, but beyond the tenth, he couldn’t be bothered) in the state where he lay hiding, parenthetical, practically invisible. Read the rest of this entry »

It was an admirable dive, technically haphazard but stylish like good slam verse, and confident despite daunting conditions, including absence-of-pool. The diver launched from his start point at the concrete median was not in diver’s trim. Read the rest of this entry »

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 »

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299-WORD NOVELS

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The pen name David B Dale honors my parents Beatrice and Dale. David+B+Dale = davidbdale

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