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The room is dark and smells of disinfected pee with a hint of vanilla. Eleanor Barney must be here. Most of us have been wheeled into places and parked facing the screen but younger people with red ears are crowded onto folding chairs, noisy with outdoor talk, coats in their laps. Read the rest of this entry »

During the funeral in his old hometown he didn’t give it a thought but when he needed a ride to the airport and couldn’t think who to ask he discovered he was in all the world alone in that particular way, Read the rest of this entry »

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299-WORD NOVELS

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Behind the Pseudonym

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

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  1. davidbdale's avatar

    This Novel is a close relative of The Question from more than 25 years ago. I've edited it substantially and…

  2. davidbdale's avatar

    Thank you so much, anhinga. This story, written 20 years ago, seems prophetic now. —David

  3. anhinga's avatar

    "The town we all grew up in has been gone so long! We never thought its undertow could be so strong."…

  4. davidbdale's avatar

    This Very Short Novel is a close relative of Monkey at the Piano from almost 20 years ago. I'm certain…

  5. davidbdale's avatar

    So glad to hear it, anhinga! I returned to your site for your entertaining backgrounder on the nature of the…