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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 »




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