Hello again Kathryn,
Thank you for posting your short story in "Invalid Item"  . Here is a review that I hope will help you in some way. 
I like the whole aura of the story. It's descriptive, and if you do it right, that's a plus, and you did. When I finished reading it I felt that it is incomplete, though; the story was not resolved ina ny way. It's also a little shady in some parts, like what is really the relationship of Tomas and Ireland. Still I enjoyed reading it. My suggestion is for you to add more to it—the story would end more effectively if you do. Another is for you to use an M-dash instead of just a dash Put no space betweenthe words when you use it. It has an ASCII code of ALT0151. If you use (...) though, add a space before and after it if it is between two words.
Here is a list of things I noticed that might require your attention. It's up to you if you will take my suggestions or not.
In dreams, you can look down from a great height, and see yourself moving, ghostlike; you, but not you.
In dreams, you can look down from a great height, and see yourself moving, ghostlike—you, but not you.
Even now, in May, the days are still cold.
Even now in May, the days are still cold.
She usually feels indifferent about rain, but today it comforts her, the gentle sound of it against the window. and the pattern of narrow, crossing paths made by drops that slide down the glass. She puts her arms on the sill, and rests her forehead against the window pane.
She usually feels indifferent about rain, but today it comforts her as she hears its gentle sound against the window with its pattern of narrow, crossing paths made by drops that slide down the glass. She puts her arms on the sill and rests her forehead against the windowpane.
A great builder of walls, Sebastian.
A great builder of walls, Sebastian is.
Sebastian, behind your walls, I can't reach you, either.
Sebastian, behind your walls, I can't reach you, either.
He told her things, he'd confessed once, that he did not tell his wife.
He confessed once that he told her things he doesn’t tell his wife.
She lifts her head and looks outside again. She remembers a day in May, nearly fifteen years ago, now.
She lifts her head and looks outside again. She remembers a day in May, nearly fifteen years ago.
The day, she recalls, was a Saturday.
It was a Saturday, she recalls.
It was afternoon when Tomas had arrived at her front door insisting it was a perfect day for a walk through the park.
It was in the afternoon when Tomas arrived at her front door insisting it was a perfect day for a walk through the park.
He would touch the new, wet leaves, and tell her the name, if he knew.
He would touch the new, wet leaves and tell her its names, if he knew.
Most of all, he said, he loved the spring rain. He would put his head back and let the raindrops fall onto his face.
Most of all, he said that he loved the spring rain, then he would tilt his head back and let the raindrops fall onto his face.
It seemed he could let the world be constantly miraculous and new to him; a grown man seeing through the eager eyes of a child.
It seemed he could let the world be constantly miraculous and new to him—a grown man seeing through the eager eyes of a child.
She took the hand of her friend, and gently placed it on her belly.
She took the hand of her friend and then gently placed it on her belly.
Sebastian's father would look solemnly on his son, allowing only the tiniest bit of pride to show in his eyes. His mother would kiss the top of his head, and tell him he was a good boy. Hugs would be rare. Life and love...all of it governed by formality.
Sebastian's father would look solemnly at his son, allowing only the tiniest bit of pride show in his eyes while his mother would kiss the top of his head and tell him he was a good boy. Hugs would be rare. Life and love … all of it governed by formality.
She's always liked this room, Sebastian's study, with its ivory-coloured walls, and tall bookshelves, and Sebastian's degrees on the wall behind the desk. She’s even become fond of the eagle; the sculpture, a gift from Sebastian's father.
She's always liked this room, Sebastian's study; with its ivory-coloured walls, tall bookshelves and Sebastian's degrees on the wall behind the desk. She’s even become fond of the eagle, the sculpture a gift from Sebastian's father.
Keep writing!
God bless,
_Equilibrium
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