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You’re right. Management is at fault, not your hard work. The board of directors should lose their jobs; hell, they should probably spend time in jail, but we both know that won’t happen. Read the rest of this entry »

He slops his filthy water across my sparkling windshield and across my gleaming hood and over my shining fenders three mornings a week when I pause at his intersection, caught by the light. Read the rest of this entry »

He didn’t sleep at night until he had fed the jar. He hustled pool and won: nobody figured a kid could shoot. Mondays he caught shifts at the deli unless the regular slicer came back sober from the casinos. He ran deliveries of whatever didn’t burn a hole in his hand until nothing felt hot. Read the rest of this entry »

One thing for sure, Uncle V’s business—as business, now—was as money as a business can be. Its revenues were pure profit and customers killed one another to give him his fees. He expended no effort to provide his service; Read the rest of this entry »

So many words are already written on a dollar bill, it hardly needs more language from me, words as evocative as God and Trust, as if heaven had to sanction my buying a croissant, beautiful words though, about my public and private debts. Read the rest of this entry »

Neighbors and strangers are holding bits of my childhood up to the sunlight, the better to judge them. Mom and I have arranged the tables in loose chronological order; attentive shoppers moving clockwise will see my unformed adolescent self unfold into hopeful young womanhood over there by the plum tree. Read the rest of this entry »

The logic of the raise is ruthless and simple, I told Amy. We don’t get raises for what we’ve done: management doesn’t tip. Our raises are like higher bids. If there’s no other bidder, the auction’s over. Amy doesn’t get it. Read the rest of this entry »

Of all my tools, although more often I use a single-edge razor, I’m partial to the paper punch. I love the neat little hole it leaves behind and the ripping thwick of the two round fitted edges cleaving the fabric. Read the rest of this entry »

I work hard on my checks to the phone company, the utilities, the landlord and those irresponsibly naïve organizations that have entrusted me with credit. God bless their mortal souls. My checks are late and never for the recommended amount but they are works of art. Read the rest of this entry »

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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

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