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Drowning in Air
March 29, 2026 in 299 Words, Flash Fiction, Autism, Monologue, Metaphor, Life on the Spectrum, Publicity, Opportunism, Media, Broadcast, Opportunist, Self-importance | Tags: 299 Words, Autism, Books, Faith, Fiction, jesus, microfiction, spectrum, veryshortnovels, Writing | by davidbdale | Leave a comment
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
Borrow a Bassoon
March 21, 2026 in 299 Words, Bassoon, Biography, Birthday, Childhood, Community, Education, Entertainment, Flash Fiction, Holiday, Humor, Life Story, Memory, Monkey, Music, Parade, Piano, School, Short stories, Very Short Novels | Tags: celebration, clever-animals, holiday-parade, Life, Life Story, Love, mental-health, Poetry, veryshortnovels, Writing | by davidbdale | 3 comments
How I love the world in all its ripe green beauty and all the people on its skin who cheer me with their effortless kindness! The sun pours down like pancake syrup. The grass grows just like grass but in a dream. Today is my birthday, again; I may never get older. I’m marking the day with a boisterous parade as far as my legs will take me and no plan for stopping. March with me, neighbors, and lift your knees high as we wave to the crowds on the boulevard of my youth, just a street with pretentions, and whistle if you can or borrow a bassoon! I want to make music that sounds like a theme for the rest of my life. Whichever way we turn is the Parade Route: this was the driveway that scraped my knees. This was my yard, where I lay on my back in a shower of stars and wondered if I would be missed. Left is the school where they taught me that God made the day and the night; right is the school where I heard He was dead. Here is the boss who taught me that labor is labor and in no way its own reward. There is the house of the girl who said yes. And her sister. We’ve gathered a jubilant crowd: marching bands and dogs on stilts and a monkey at the piano. Shopkeepers rejoice when they see us approach. The bells on their registers ring as we usher our elephants in through their doors and everyone sings:
I hope to be remembered when I’m gone!
The town we all grew up in has been gone so long!
We never thought its undertow could be so strong.
Something is terribly, terribly wrong.
Something’s gone horribly wrong.
Original Copyright © May 17, 2007
Revised Copyright © March 21, 2026
Very Short Novels 