You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘Death’ tag.
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Going in Hope
December 12, 2009 in 299 Words, Crime, Danger, Family, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Hero, Parent, Short stories, Stories, Very Short Novels, Violence, Writing | Tags: Child, Crime, Danger, Death, Fear, Parent, Police, Violence | by davidbdale | 4 comments
Where we live, the troopers are always on call, even if their kids are in the patrol car with them on their way to the shoe store. I’m twenty minutes out, is all Mom said to the dispatcher, but I could tell from the road we took she wouldn’t be dropping me off. Read the rest of this entry »
Forgiveness
June 11, 2009 in 299 Words, Crime, Danger, Death, Family, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Runaway, Survivor, Very Short Novels, Writing | Tags: Abduction, Child, Crime, Danger, Death, Loss, Mercy, Performance, Separation, Violence | by davidbdale | 4 comments
She was never my girl until you took her and now that I will never get her back, I have reclaimed her. Read the rest of this entry »
Boy on the Roof
January 17, 2009 in 299 Words, Childhood, Danger, Divorce, Family, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Marriage, Panic, Separation, Short stories, Stories, Very Short Novels, Writing | Tags: Child, Danger, Death, Family, Fear, Jealousy, Love, Parent, Performance, Suicide, Threat | by davidbdale | 27 comments
On the roof of our apartment building my son waited for his father to arrive so he could jump. Meanwhile I, the attending parent, persuaded the police chief not to upset, by storming the roof, what balance our child still clung to Read the rest of this entry »
The Cutting Board
July 18, 2008 in 299 Words, Flash Fiction, Very Short Novels | Tags: Anger, Death, Grief, Loss, Love, Marriage, Pain, Pity | by davidbdale | 6 comments
The next day was entirely different. Longer hours of sun were bringing the thaw. Victor had gone ice-fishing alone on the mostly frozen lake, not frozen enough where he had fallen through. Read the rest of this entry »
Rescue Work
July 12, 2008 in 299 Words, Flash Fiction, Very Short Novels | Tags: Death, Love, Mercy, Pain, Peace, Pity, Work | by davidbdale | 8 comments
I’m a matter-of-fact girl in a clerical collar with a few things of value to share. One, it’s good to share. Two, everybody has value. I can’t explain death or the consequences it casts backward into our lives or forward onto our survivors but I’ve measured some of those shadows where I live. Read the rest of this entry »
White Cross
April 10, 2008 in 299 Words, Death, Family, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Health, Life, Short stories, Stories, Survivor, Very Short Novels, Violence, Writing | Tags: Car, Death, Drinking, Grave, Loss, Memento, Mystery | by davidbdale | 7 comments
This godforsaken gravel shoulder is as good a place—as bad a place—as any to have made your peace with life and dying. Still, you probably objected. Not here, you said, by which you meant, Not yet. Read the rest of this entry »
The Rope Climber
April 5, 2008 in 299 Words, Childhood, Death, Escape, Family, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Life, Literature, Memory, Religion, Runaway, Short stories, Stories, Very Short Novels, Violence, Writing | Tags: Boy, Childhood, Death, Escape, Grief, Guilt, Loss, Mystery | by davidbdale | 4 comments
Summer camp for boys had been a nightmare of fellowship and other itchy rashes. For weeks, he had tried to find somebody he could like or a hiding place, but they had pestered him with bows and arrows, canoes and climbing ropes. The ropes he liked. Read the rest of this entry »
Something Like Mercy
February 14, 2008 in 299 Words, Death, Eternity, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Funeral, Humor, language, Literature, Memory, Poetry, Religion, Short stories, Stories, Very Short Novels, Writing | Tags: Death, Epiphany, Eulogy, Funeral, Grave, Hope, Mercy, Monologue | by davidbdale | 7 comments
The box is richly padded and, for one who won’t be stirring, roomy. I should have lived as comfortably, in darkness as conducive to long remembering. This is no way to begin. I am paper and bone in a box under earth as blunt as a clod. My words should be simple as sand. Read the rest of this entry »
Ghostly
January 26, 2008 in 299 Words, Death, Entertainment, Family, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Ghost, Haunting, Life, Love, Memory, Separation, Short stories, Stories, Very Short Novels, Writing | Tags: Death, Dream, Ghost, Loss, Lovers, Mystery, Parent, Revenge | by davidbdale | 9 comments
On the edge of my bed, his outline brightened by moonlight, his profile sharp and reassuring just as it was, then later at the market his round shoulder turning, hawk’s brow silent and still, his little cap tipped so familiarly, thereafter whenever I need him, Read the rest of this entry »
Sisters
November 8, 2007 in 299 Words, Death, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Occupation, Politics, Short stories, Suicide bomb, Very Short Novels | Tags: Bomb, Death, Grief, Loss, Mother, Sister, Terror, Terrorism | by davidbdale | 6 comments
They could be sisters, Rachel and Ayat, 18 and 17, dark and doomed. Now departed they are photographs, not girls; they are headshots looking forward, side by side on newsstands and on TV screens, never meeting. They never met. Read the rest of this entry »
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