Excellent story! I honestly can't find a thing I would change, or any sizeable part of the piece that doesn't serve a purpose. It strikes home for me as a middle-aged man, because even with my own wife, children, money, and a good job: I know this desert of the mind.
The story's protagonist is introduced and quickly humanized by his flaws: an aging back, a lack of financial success, lack of care for his house, and the implied loneliness of a shitty week with no explicit cause. To counterbalance these, he he keeps himself busy repairing things, shows responsibility, wants to go out and talk to women, and loves the cat who is a companion in his "hobby": so he's a relatable, sympathetic character. Then the mystery of the cellar is introduced.
The next segment is both creepy foreshadowing of Jed's death, and its timescale, not coincidentally ushered in by Rich's current dreams. In the first reading, the cat's reluctance to enter the basement is a foreshadowing of unknown doom; in re-reads it's a supernatural awareness of encroaching death. For Rich, opening his crawlspace means unveiling his old vices, failings, and failed dreams. Meanwhile, the dream Cheryl foreshadows Rich's own meager dreams... and their failing. He bounces back quickly: work accomplishments, distractions, and extra money keep him busy and connected, and his mood improves.
This is where things take a turn for the strange, and where I begin to read in more metaphor. In the next scene, Rich find the basement door open, and is unnerved by his inability to explain how the door was opened. It affects him deeply, and finding the bones enexpectedly strewn across the floor shakes him to the point of calling in sick, interrupting his weak thread of connection with the outside world. Metaphorically, Rich's own internal sickness has escaped its bonds to destroy his life and companion, and the bones represent that shadow of death. Either this process is supernatural, or it is simply the rebellion of Rich's own mind against him is left unclear, but it's effective either way: the reader is force to engage through decision.
The succeeding realization that there is nothing outside his house for him (in his mind, even the neighbors and children think him a ghoul: dead inside, and living in a crypt), and that his situation, possessions, and old dreams and memories are all toxic brings him to tears.
Before Rich is even able to recover, he loses his only companion, and his destruction is complete. He can't even blame the girl who actually killed his friend.
He is alone, adrift, and past his prime: it's unclear at this point if he is actually suicidal. I'd like to think not - even at the point of emptiness, life goes on. The house and all it represents can be walked away from. But the question is raised: and the reader has to fill the void with his own hope.
In my read of this, anyone who has the imagination and empathy while be drawn through Rich's midnight of the soul, born out of his own failed hopes, and the natural process of a mid-life crisis. The clean, solid writing style don't obscure the window at all: the only thing I might wonder about are the use of elipses, but I am not a grammar ninja, so you'll have to ask elsewhere about that.
All in all, I think this piece of writing is a bit niche, but in its niche: fantastic. |