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Review #4455702
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This review is being given as part of the Simply Positive Reviews & Rising Stars groups. It is also given as part of an application to join the Wyrm group.

Please note that all opinions rendered below are in the spirit of giving, in an effort to help, you, the writer, improve the piece. You are under no obligation to use any of my suggestions and I won't think less of you if you don't use them. Regardless, thank you for the opportunity to review your work.


General Impressions
This is a tremendous piece of writing, layered and complex, and beautifully executed. Well done! I would expect this would be accepted by a literary magazine pretty easily. I absolutely love the ending to this, it was a very satisfying read given the dark topic.

Favorite Part
I loved Mercy. As a character who is completely in control and accepting of her role, without any reservations whatsoever, she's a perfect foil to the humans around her who have no insight to the necessity of death.

Suggestions for improvement
I will go over that in a line by line below. There's not much.

Rating Explanation
4.75 - this is a rating I give when a work is close to perfect but still needs some slight fixes to really polish it up. These things don't necessarily detract from the story and are typically things the average reader reading for enjoyment might not even see but become more obvious after subsequent read throughs. I tend to read first for pleasure and to get to know the piece and then multiple times thereafter critically to pick out areas for improvement.

Charity

My review has been submitted for consideration in "Good Deeds Go Noticed.

Line by Line Review
In the line by line review, my comments are mixed into the content in bold. You may find punctuation, word spellings and other comments mixed throughout. I find it helpful to include all the content to make it easier to find when revising. I hope this method helps you.


Mercy bunched her muscles and leaped up onto Mrs. Schenowitz's bed. For some reason the word bunched stuck out to me. Would she actually make a choice to do this? Is it deliberate in that way or would they bunch as she leaped? Because that first sentence is so very important, I would look at the logic structure of actions there to see if it reflects accurately the picture you're trying to paint. Perhaps Mercy's muscles bunched and she leaped on the bed?

She took a moment to study the terrain the old woman's body made under the blanket. Afternoon sunlight filtered through the curtains, highlighting the mountain range of legs and body. This is a phenomenal description, tightly packed, and perfect!

No machines took conference around Mrs. Schenowitz, as some nursing home residents needed.

Mercy didn't need any human contrivances to tell her Mrs. Schenowitz breathed the last of her portion of air this world. Okay, so this sentence really made me stumble. I initially thought the woman was already dead but the next sentence contradicts that.

Mercy knew because Mercy had decided Mrs. Schenowitz would never wake up from this nap. She extended a forepaw, testing her step before she committed to it.

A woman's voice, shrill with anger, echoed down the hall. It drowned out the rambling voices of the TV in the common room. Nurse Bennett replied in a soothing tone.

The angry woman yelled, “You should get rid of that damned cat!”

The orange tabby dropped from the bed, abandoning her mission for the moment.

“Mercy is a therapy animal, Mrs. Martinez,” said Nurse Bennett, her calm words hard around the edges. “The residents love her.”

The transition from nurse to cat is a little rough here and I think it's important to smooth that out. I think it could be easy to fix by saying Mercy's paws. The linoleum cooled the pads of her paws after the warmth of the old woman's blanket.

Mercy bent her body through the crack in the door and padded along the wall. She passed rooms where the elderly lay in beds, stared mindlessly out windows, or arranged cards in lines as if building walls against Death.

Walls meant nothing to Death, Mercy knew. In the outside world, Death came when called by accident or design. In the nursing home, Death came when Mercy called.

She came to the opening to the reception area, which opened further into the common room. A few residents sat around the TV on the couch or in their wheelchairs. Others gathered around tables, some with tubes trailing away to sleek IV stands. Most of them gawked at the two women arguing on either side of the front counter. Nurse Jackson stood behind Nurse Bennett, his arms crossed over his tunic.

Mercy strode in front of him and jumped up onto the desk, avoiding the computer keyboard, and made another small jump onto the counter.
Here I have a small concern as to location. Did Mercy just jump up near Ms. Martinez? If so, I would think she would have more of a revulsion type reaction to the cat appearing, that it would be more alarming to her than that. More of a get that damn cat away from me! The reaction that follows seems very tame considering the woman is so upset as to be yelling and disturbing others. There's a missed opportunity for more tension there I believe but if word count limits you, then it's safe to disregard that.

Frizzy hair stood out in a halo around Mrs. Martinez's head. “It acts like it owns the place.” She narrowed her eyes at Nurse Bennett. “And it killed my father.”

Mercy didn't recognize the woman, and she never forgot a face. She had to be the daughter of Mr. Schenowitz, whom Mercy had chosen for Death a week-and-a-half before. Life here held no more adventure for him or his wife, but Mr. Schenowitz tested the paths before Mrs. Schenowitz followed.

“Mercy didn't kill anyone,” Nurse Bennet said. This area again could benefit from some kind of reaction. Is the nurse exasperated? Frustrated? Struggling to control herself?

“One of your nurses told me it was with my dad when he died.”

Mercy lifted an orange-striped leg to lick at her fur. As soon as she sated her curiosity of consider using about instead this conversation, she would be with the woman's mother as she died, as well. Mrs. Schenowitz was ready. Not all who were ready knew they were ready, but Mercy always knew. That was why Death had chosen her.

Nurse Jackson opened his mouth and closed it. Nurse Bennett didn't see from her place in front of him. Why is this important here? It detracts from the action somewhat and doesn't appear to show an immediate purpose.

In a soothing tone, she said to Mrs. Martinez, “Yes, ma'am. Mercy has a knack for knowing when someone is close to death, and she stays with them. She is a comfort to them.”

“What kind of sense does it make to let an animal near a helpless old man? It probably laid on his face and smothered him!”

Mr. Jones, playing dominoes with two others at one of the tales, scoffed. His companions made similar noises.

“I assure you, Mrs. Joyce, when Mercy stays with someone, we keep a close eye on them. Because we know what it means when she sleeps on their bed.”

“And if he was allergic? Lots of people are allergic to cats and you have one living here.”

The woman didn't even know her father wasn't allergic to cats. It raised the fur along Mercy's back.

“Your father was not allergic. Those who are live in one of our other two buildings.”

Mrs. Martinez's shadow darkened where it slanted away from the fluorescent lights above the nurses' station. The tip of Mercy's tail twitched, but she otherwise kept her aloof posture. Death rose up, an apparition only Mercy could see. The blackness detached from the shadow, dark foggy robes bleeding across the tiles.

Death put a hand on Mercy's head, a pressure without temperature. She stood and arched her back into the caress.

Death's voice whispered across Mercy's mind like a dry wind through fall leaves. “You called me, little one?”

Mrs. Martinez shivered, glancing sideways at the cat as if she, and not the presence of Death, gave her a chill.

“My mother is still here. I want the cat gone, before it kills her, too.”

Nurse Bennett's rounded shoulders sagged. “We can transfer her to another building, if you like, but Mrs. Schenowitz's health is failing rapidly. The move could be too much for her.”

“Then don't move her; just get rid of the cat. Or keep it away from her!”

Mr. Jones slammed his hand on the table, jouncing dominoes. “Now you listen here, young lady. That cat is the only comfort some of us have, and your mama loves her. Don't you take away the only one who visits her every day!”

Nurse Jackson came out from behind the station, giving Mr. Jones a conspiratorial smile as he approached. He patted the man's arm, but didn't shush him.

Mrs. Martinez ignored them. “Just keep the cat away from my mom.” Adjusting her purse strap on her shoulder, she turned toward the door.

Quietly, I'm not a big believer in adverbs, and considering the sophistication of the piece, surely there's better language or description that could be used here?Nurse Bennett said, “Won't you sit with her while you're here, then? A visit from her daughter might give her strength.”

Mrs. Martinez stilled, her expression softening, but then she lifted her chin. “I can't see her like that. I just can't.” She let in an autumn breeze as she went through the door, but the nursing home's air folded it in warmth.

Death touched an inky-smoke finger to Mercy's forehead, tracing the dark M her tabby pattern made there. Death had done the same, back at the animal shelter, when Mercy was a kitten. “Just darkening it a little,” Death had said in that dry wind voice. “It'll ensure the woman who's coming will choose you.”

“M for Mercy,” Nurse Bennett had said that day, two years gone by.

The door swung shut and the nurses relaxed. The residents went back to their TV and games, save for Mr. Jones.

“Go on, Mercy,” he said. “You go be with Marianne if you need to. No one here's going to tell.”

Mercy looked at Death. The shadow had no face, but she felt there was a smile there. “Mrs. Schenowitz is ready to follow after her husband, is she? I'll give you a chance to say your goodbye, then, and be back later.” Death shrank into the floor, into the shadows of the grout between the tiles.

Mercy poised at the edge of the counter, overseeing her charges. Mr. Jones nodded to her and bent over his dominoes. Nurse Jackson patted his back and returned to the counter. He stroked Mercy from the back of her neck to the base of her tail.

“I was the one who told Mrs. Martinez that Mercy was with her dad when he died. I thought it would be a comfort to her, not....”

Nurse Bennett blew out a breath. “It's all right, Eland. Most of us would've done the same.”

Mercy humped her back against the pleasure of the nurse's scratching fingers and turned to hop onto the desk and then onto the floor. She made her way back down the hallway, to sit vigil for Mrs. Schenowitz until Death came to take her to her husband.

In the old woman's room, she leaped up onto the bed once again. This time, she didn't pause, but trekked across the blanketed landscape to curl up in the crook of Mrs. Schenowitz's arm. Death had chosen her because she knew when a human near the end of life was ready to move on—even when the human didn't know it. She could see past their fear or stubbornness.

People like Mrs. Schenowitz had moved beyond their fear. The old woman woke and reached across her body to scratch Mercy under the chin. “I've been waiting for you to see me off.”

Her hand fell away to rest atop the blanket. “I'm ready.”

Purring, Mercy fell asleep in the crook of Mrs. Schenowitz's arm.


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