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I teach fifth grade, nothing controversial: 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; the other half are First Infantry, now stateside, soon enough to ship out again. These enlisted-kids pull extra duty at home when a glorious soldier-parent goes to war. They grow up practical, raised on a diet of fear, bluster, and discipline. Mostly, though, they act like fifth-graders whose parents love them and who defend the flag for a living. For the few who suffer Pre-Traumatic Stress Syndrome (trademark pending), the nightmares precede the loss. For others, the combat death of a Mom or Dad inflicts every conceivable harm (see appendix). I ride herd on a classroom full of kids who go to war by webcam and who react like soldiers in the field to their parents being shot at every day. I wonder what prayers they overhear during calls from the war zone. When they come to me in panic, I recite some boilerplate about preparedness, ask them if Mom or Dad takes living seriously, and show them on the map how big a wasteland there is to hide in in Wastelandistan. When they ask me why my wife didn’t make it back, I say she did, four times goddamit, that her life was courageous, and that carelessness caught up with her. Is their Daddy careless? Is Mommy? My words do nothing to comfort me. Nevertheless. On stagnant afternoons when you can catch a fly in your hand, when long division has lost its charm, we put away our books and their hands go up. We memorized the dates, they tell me. But why? Stop lying! We’ve know wars keep happening, they say, but why? What for?

Original Copyright © March 25, 2007
Revised Copyright © April 22, 2026

Come in! We’re The Fishes! Welcome to The Aquarium! Hahaha no of course not. Not officially. Just a nickname. Dude, an ice-breaker. Drop it. Is this for broadcast? We’ll start in Michael’s room then. How big’s your crew? Shoot from the door maybe. Again, this nursery-room mobile of origami fishes has hung over Michael’s dresser since he was ill-conceived. The big blue fish represents me: Daddy Fish. Here’s Missus Fish, the yellow one. Sister Fish. Other Sister Fish. And Michael, currently purple. Correct. It hangs lower because it’s been repainted. Uh-huh. Often. I know. It upsets the dynamic. I fixed it once, but Michael objected as if I’d whacked him. What? How dare you. You there. Let him be. He’s self-regulating, OK?  Take a course. Well you’re in his room, so. Want your headphones, Michael? My Boy. Now notice each drawer contains just one garment type— What the— Hey, don’t move that! Not for angles, not for nothing. Again, the garment drawings indicate the contents— Is the Fishmobile a metaphor for what? Look, I didn’t invite you here for this. There are real challenges, peckerhead. Cuts to government funding, accessibility issues, what the hell happens when Michael ages out of school…. Sorry. You’re right. This is just the latest in a lifetime of long mornings. You like metaphors?: when he was two, something kidnapped our son. It dropped a hook into the family and pulled him from the water flapping. We’d suffocate where he lives down there beyond reach, and he can’t breathe where we live. Get it? We wait every day to land a glimpse of him, and when we do, we wish we hadn’t because it’s like watching him drown in air. So. You need more footage? Squeeze in here. You’re gonna wanna witness lunchtime. Makeup!

Original Copyright © March 18, 2007
Revised Copyright © March 28, 2026

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299-WORD NOVELS

Character, conflict, emotional impact. And sentences! Everything you want in a novel, without one extra syllable.
  1. davidbdale's avatar

    Thank you so much, anhinga, but I wouldn't want to try it without the other 199. —David

  2. davidbdale's avatar
  3. anhinga's avatar

    All you need is 100 words to make an emotional impact. Touching.

  4. Unknown's avatar

    Brilliant, brother. Just simply brilliant.

  5. davidbdale's avatar

    This Very Short Novel has a strong resemblance to Simple Lessons of War from almost 20 years ago, but is…

Behind the Pseudonym

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

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