You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘Loss’ tag.
Tag Archive
Alphabet Soup
November 10, 2007 in 299 Words, Family, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Memory, Short stories, Stories, Very Short Novels | Tags: Age, Fear, Loss, Memory, Mother, Son | by davidbdale | 9 comments
I don’t know this man across the table but if we’re dating, I’m a reasonably lucky woman, depending on my age, my looks. I don’t know much. A plate of eggs and bacon before him, scrambled soft, I believe they call it and nearby, toast in uneven stacks, so the meal is underway. Is this breakfast? Read the rest of this entry »
Sisters
November 8, 2007 in 299 Words, Death, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Occupation, Politics, Short stories, Suicide bomb, Very Short Novels | Tags: Bomb, Death, Grief, Loss, Mother, Sister, Terror, Terrorism | by davidbdale | 6 comments
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 »
Very Short Novels 