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Tag Archive
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 »
One Step Back
August 22, 2007 in 299 Words, Family, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Literature, Stories, Very Short Novels, Writing | Tags: Fear, Loss, Mother, Panic, Son | by davidbdale | 11 comments
The day I nearly lost him, he was such a little man. Rolling his miniature suitcase down the concourse with his boarding pass, threading his way through the taller adults, he looked back just once like a confident boy friend, roguish that he was in the lead, then disappeared from the face of the earth, a suddenly vulnerable child without his mother. Read the rest of this entry »
