You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘Grief’ tag.

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 »

When our favorite couple decided to marry and chose for their date a Saturday in July already charged with bright significance, we had to insist, they couldn’t have it. Read the rest of this entry »

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 »

When the night voices tremble in your heart, so do you hear where each of us is, except for me, except for the one who doesn’t call. Your bed is damp with not knowing. Left to the black glass and right to your husband, you shake your head No all night. Read the rest of this entry »

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 »

I teach fifth grade, nothing complicated: slavery, ratios and proportions, why the good side always prevails in war. Half my students at the Army base are children of Second Cavalry, currently deployed; Read the rest of this entry »

Hello, we’re the Fishes. Welcome to our ambivalent home. Ha. One of our little jokes, meant to make you more comfortable. Okay. Let’s start in Michael’s room. Read the rest of this entry »

Fifty-five years of job reversals and mortgage payments all come down to this: a slow trickle of bargain hunters with their Penny-Savers, picking through a houseful of used furniture priced to move, each piece tagged with a little red sticker like a drop of blood with numbers penciled in, Read the rest of this entry »

All I wanted when he died was to scream. My family restrained me, taking me by the arms near the shoulders, and either slamming me to the wall of the trauma room or forcing my nose into the stink, as if I were responsible, Read the rest of this entry »

Blog Stats

  • 821,945 Visitors

VSN Logo

I’m On Twitter

EAT FEED

299-WORD NOVELS

Character, conflict, emotional impact. And sentences! Everything you want in a novel, without one extra syllable.

Behind the Pseudonym

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

255 More Novels!

Recent Tweets

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 102 other followers