Of the many short stories Dawn Rae’s published in literary journals, some have won awards and notice.  Here are two of the award-winners, just for you:

Hansel and Gretel
To hear Rollo tell it, the whole of the navy, the air force and the marines sat on deck chairs on the beach at Nha Trang and waited the conflict out, now and then renewing their sunscreen.  The officers especially.

But never mind Clinton, Rollo said.   The draft lottery wasn't a lottery anyway, not for anyone.   It wasn't random. All the days of the year—even February 29th for leap year—all three hundred and sixty-six dates written on three hundred and sixty-six cards went in sequence into the barrel.  It wasn't spun enough to mix the cards up and make the dates truly random, and most of the later dates stayed on top, so that the numbers drawn out first—the low numbers—were likely to be for birthdays in the second half of the year. 

Where was Bob Barker when you needed him, someone who could have done this right?  Where were Janice and Holly and Anitra?  Vanna?

For Vincent's mother, nothing can ever be an emergency again.  Not after Danny.  Disasters will come to her now languidly, as if they're launched on a breeze of cool destiny, on the silk balloon lines spiders ride in summer.  If Vincent drowns in Bell's Creek some July or August, if leukemia sets in on him like a summer cold, if her husband is killed in traffic, has a heart attack, chokes on steak—none of it will need speed from her, there'll be no stopping it.  She may as well save her strength.