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His face was a rag with torn-out eyes that flickered blackly for his girls. The only visible male in a family of incandescent women, he had burned through his few years quickly, as if life were a thin joint mostly paper and one strong draw could drag the ember the whole length to his lips. Read the rest of this entry »

It’s said too often, so often it can’t be true, that the drowning man sees his life flash before his eyes, but what is never said is whether he understands it any better for having seen it. That would be evidence. Read the rest of this entry »

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Behind the Pseudonym

The pen name davidbdale honors my mother Beatrice (Bea) and my father Dale

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