Will,
This is a nasty, nasty piece of work. And it's so well done. One thinks, at first, that this is a horror story, a fantasy. But the truth toward the end is that this is horror of an all-too-real sort.
I'm going to offer a structured review, then some fairly detailed (and possibly intrusive) suggestions. Stop reading at any time, and remember that this is just one reader's opinion. And know from the start that I LOVED this story.
Here's the structured part…
When approaching your story, I'm searching for specific elements, and each will be addressed under a different header.
Introduction (Hook) — Did the beginning of your story stop me from putting down your story? Was I compelled to read on?
Hoping for a macabre story at this time of year (this review being written October 18), the grim words and looming atmosphere of the first few sentences did indeed hook me.
Characters — Do they fit the story (Are they well rounded, or appropriately vague?)
As the story progresses, the speaker in the story rounds himself out. It is left up to the reader to decide whether the main character's perception of the other character--the painting--is true or not. So the second "character" remains wide-open to interpretation.
Plot — Does your story contain a clear plot with a strong resolution, or hook if it's a chapter or serial?
The plot IS clear, although it shifts subtly as the story moves toward its conclusion. See my notes and suggestions below for further details on this.
Pace — Does your story feel like it's going somewhere?
Was I able to follow the cadence of your story?
Your story feels like it's going to hell, and taking the reader with it! It's a short piece, so it has to get where it's going quickly. Still, you provide a twist along that path that I found heart-wrenching and terrifying...and real.
Language and Voice — Was I able to 'feel' the story, to experience it through one or more of the characters?
I was definitely able to feel the trapped, frustrated, anger of the main character. The reader is also able to sympathize with how the speaker feels cheated, sleighted, wronged. The "greasy" painting is the apotheosis of all the injustice of the speaker's condition. It reminded me (in a good way, in a relatable way) of Emmanuel Goldstein's face in the Two Minutes Hate from 1984--the target of all the rage and emotion of both the character and the reader. A simple tool, well-used.
Settings — Was I able to really embed myself in a scene, really see and feel the surroundings as written?
The setting is again left to interpretation. In the end, the reader assumes that the negative connotations of this place are filters from the main character's point of view--that it is actually a normal place, and it is the mind of the main character that skews it into the perspective from which we are allowed to see it.
Themes — Was I knocked out by mind-blowing philosophy or originality?
Yeah. I totally was. I get too wrapped up feeling sorry for people to stop and think how angry their own problems must make them--and that my acts of sympathy and pity are only fuel for a fire that might be burning them alive from within. Quite simply put: bitchin' POV.
Mechanics — Was the grammar and structure such that I did not have to re-read portions, or stumble over certain phrases? Were there conspicuous punctuation errors?
This was stylized, and spoken from an individual's mind in the first person. Certain literary license must be granted. Still, I think there were opportunities to use punctuation in other ways to adjust the pacing a little. Again, see my notes below for more on this.
x-----x-----x
So that's how the numbers would add up on this one. Now I'd like to be so bold as to offer some suggestions/changes that i think would increase the impact of this piece.
First, the repetition of "greasy" is a little too repetitious. There are many ways to imply this complexion or demeanor: grimy, sleazy, oily, filthy, matted, dank, sloppy, smeary… You get the point. It's up to you, of course, but I feel like the more different angles you take with this word, the fuller the effect will be.
Now, here's some actual changes I suggest:
“The hard part is learning how to live, how to survive.” I suggest the following edition: “The hard part is learning how to live, how to want to live... how to survive.” To me, this clarifies a certain self-blame the character seems to carry, almost unconsciously.
Before they hung the painting here, they gave me a puppy with brown spots. I guess it was supposed to make me feel better, but it didn’t. Animals get to run outside, smell the air, and even feel the rain. One day The pup got loose and bolted out the front door, jumping and playing in the rain-soaked yard. I begged it not to go, not to tramp through the mud, begged it to return, but it wouldn’t listen. It didn’t care. Sadly, I left it, and walked back to my room, back to my sickbed, back to the life that is not life, but only death in another form.
"...clean white sheets, and then peed on my sweat-stained pillow." I suggest the following, keeping in line with the anger throughout the rest of the piece: "...clean white sheets, and then peed pissed on my sweat-stained pillow."
"I’d throw it in the tub and drown it." I'd expand this, to finish the image from before. "I’d throw it in the tub and drown it. Break it and bury it in its own closet-ful of pity."
Okay. Here's the really intrusive part. I just didn't like the way it ended. So I propose this (or something like it):
But I can't. I have only the strength left to watch his fetid face and beetled brows ooze closer, the hour hand of a watch that slyly ticks away the final moments: you never see it moving, but you always feel it getting later. I can only lie useless, burning in my own corruption and watch, feeling his hateful smugness slime its way toward me, an oily blanket that slowly suffocates, slowly...so slowly. I can only watch and weep and silently scream and beg each night for that poisonous face to finally drown me its claustrophobic greasiness. I beg. And beg. And beg.
Every night, I seethe, and grovel.
Every sunrise brings a ruined tomorrow to endure, and after another eternity of hatred, the sun goes down: but it's never so dark I can't see. And begin to hope and beg again.
So now it begins. Let it be tonight, you sick, sadistic son of a bitch. I'm begging you, again: let it be tonight you take me home.
As you can see, I changed the tense a lot, and I left the reader out of it, no longer asking if the reader can see the painting as well. If you write it right (and you did), the reader can't help but see the painting. I also chose to enhance the character's innate helplessness, and his anger at that helplessness. And in the final line, I chose to imply that this painting--this very personification of all that is negative--is, in fact, the character's perception of God, a cruel and wicked creator/controller that is prolonging the suffering...but to which the character must also beg for release from that suffering.
That's really taking A LOT of liberty with the end of your story, I know. I mean no offense; the rest of the story just inspired this alternative ending for me.
x-----x-----x
Wow! Quite a bit to throw at you, I know. But I really liked this piece, mostly for the way you grounded it in reality and made it so possible. Please take no offense at my comments or suggestions; rather, know that only go to such lengths for the sake of stories I am completely enamored with.
Best of luck on all your future writing as well, Will.
Quite sincerely,
--Jeff Meyer
---Reviewed for WDC Power Reviewers---
** Image ID #2014170 Unavailable **
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Your sentence structure is a strength.
) This is all to demonstrate that this narrative could have been difficult or uncomfortable to read. But it flowed excellently, and for that you deserve credit.