I like your story. You take a very macabre scene and make it almost believable.
A couple small things, a typo where you say “...meatof...” needs a space. Also you italicize “meat”, is that your intent? I think emphasizing that word then pulls focus from your story. My opinion only.
When you use the phrase, “No. Why would I tell you anything?” Is the character reemphasizing the “No” or defining what he meant by saying it? If it’s simply restating it it’s fine, but if he’s trying to define it, which ads another level of contempt to his position with the cop, then “No, as in why would I tell *you* anything!” might play better. Italicize the “You” there to focus the contempt on the police chief. My opinion only again.
You say, “...blue eyes shooting holes..” and that threw me. My image was of the cop leaning over him with an unwavering, intense glare that would be “...boring...” holes through him, a slower, much more intense mood to draw on. Look up Auger too, a slow, ratcheting, agonizing way to cut a hole in someone.
You use an en-dash when you say, “...joy of their screams-“ and it should be an em-dash, double wide, “...their screams—“
I think your end would be stronger if you put the sentence, “I may have lied...etc” as the last sentence. You’ve built this marvelous scene to where he’s free, jumping around like spit on a hot griddle and shrieking, I don’t think he’d say “I may have...”. He’d use the words like a knife, stabbing the cop with them like, I screeched, “Surprise! I lied! He does kill!”
A very eat little story. Good work. Keep at it,
Thank you for sharing your work with us. Stay safe and enjoy life, it’s a wonderful place to hang out.
I liked that a lot. You got a great deal of emotion across with very few words.
My strong assumption, from the morbid laugh, is that she just eviscerated him and wants to gloat, but his “ Lots of practice” response gets to her.
If I might make one suggestion; the last line is too strong if she’s really been effected by him. Something like, “Each word he uttered broke her heart.” It is your piece though, for me a softer end shows a much deeper understanding of his hurt. If that’s what you were after.
It is good though, and I enjoyed it.
Thank you for sharing your words with us. Stay safe and enjoy life, it’s a wonderful place to hang out.
🐸
I liked that little story. It brought back several memories of that happening in my life.
I loved the twist you used. I did not get that Buddy was a dog until the kid with sticky hands grabbed him. I also didn’t get that Lola was a dog until I reread it and caught the shoulder bump, a common thing among some dogs. I missed the “breaking in a new mailman” too until I reread it.
Good work, keep on writing.
Stay safe and enjoy life, it’s a wonderful place to hang out.
I’m a navy vet, 1959 - 1963, I was in Subic Bay in the Philippines new years eve 1960.
I like your story. It tells a tale that I can live in for a while. My wife of 45 years died 4 years ago and this pulled up memories of her finding me. I have never been able to ask a girl out the first time. 2nd time, no problem, but they must ask first. When they found me they hung around, 45 years is the record for me.
One place made me stop to think. You wrote, “She made him want to be corny. He smiled, unknowingly.” I’m not sure I understand what you meant. They seem like unnecessary words. If you eliminate them her following question sets the whole thing up it reads more natural too.
Good banter between them, it reminds me of getting to know my wife. Also, I haven’t heard the word “Corny” in a very long time. Thank you for using it.
Stay safe and enjoy life, it’s a wonderful place to hang out.
I like your poem. I’ll be 77 in July and I’ve spent days, maybe months, contemplating every one of those thoughts along with a string of others I thought of. The title caught my attention and your words kept me wanting more.
The only thing that jarred me was , “And imagined all the possible worlds, That each burning gaseous light might beget.” Might Beget implies they haven’t and they’ve been working at it for 14 billion years or so. Our solar system is only 5 billion years old. “...could have...” adds a lot of past to it. Just my thoughts because it did stop me.
I think it flows smoothly. Your “...I ran ahead of time...” scene took me back 70 years to catching lightning bugs with my cousin. She and I had a lot of fun together. Thank you for prompting that memory.
Your last paragraph is beautiful. It puts words to exactly what I feel. Thank you again.
Very good.
Thank you for sharing your words with us. Stay safe and enjoy life, it’s a wonderful place to hang out.
I like your story. It’s a cute retell of the vampire legend, with a little twist. I rather like the simple ‘bash their head in’ instead of the paralyzing gaze or bite. Much simpler.
I love the ‘al fresco’ title.
Your words painted vivid images for me. I could Feel his cold standing there at the towers top. What was he expecting though? A ‘rare viewing opportunity’ doesn’t feel strong enough to draw him to the top of the tower.
Your last paragraph is wonderful. ‘The usual order’ implies habitual behavior, so this is very common and ‘Plump Yanks’ is perfect, it implies a lot of that habitual behavior was with plump yanks. Very well done.
Thank you for sharing your words with us. Stay safe and enjoy life.
I liked that. I wasn’t familiar with the form, but it evoked memories from 70 years ago at 6 standing in my grammas kitchen heated by her wood burning stove waiting for the first loaf of her incredible bread. She churned her own butter too, with a few hours of my effort pumping on that old wooden churn. It was a trip to paradise eating the first slice of that buttered bread.
She taught me how to iron with irons heated on that stove too. I could barely lift it, but she was patient and I didn’t burn myself or the clothes to often. I learned later all she let me iron were rags until I learned how to not burn them.
I loved my gramma, I still miss her 55 years later.
Your words got a firm grip on my insides and TWISTED to the point of almost sickness. My desire is to be able to do that with words. Make them cry in despair, laugh with joy, scream with a burning rage and settle back into a warm, comfortable lap, all in one sentence. Well, maybe a paragraph.
The picture you painted for your opening was so real I almost stopped reading, I don’t read those types. Then I remembered a story like that wouldn’t be published here.
What incredible twists, first the pounce in the attack, but putting his life at risk to save the girl then the girl comforting him. That lead me to think he’ll die with a change of heart, but that’s the next twist; he dies thinking he’s still going to get the little girl. He just falls asleep bleeding to death.
He’ll be remembered as a hero by the little girl and everyone else. Newspaper articles, the whole ball of wax. But all he really was, right to the last seconds, was what he was: A child molester. Even the act of pushing the little girl to safety was a selfish act, he was saving her for himself.
I still feel outraged at him and hope he’d fry in hell if there was one — about a “Fantasy” character.
That was very good and I enjoyed it. Thank you for sharing your words.
I liked that a little t. It’s a cute story from a dogs point of view. You handled the scatter-brained “Immediacy” of a dogs world well, the jumping from one thing to the next as attention moves around. I loved the “...baking is not Rachael’s strong point.” line, it’s perfect. The the immediate return to being anxious about a walk.
The cats a god though so it’s response is imperious. It probably would never eat cake anyway.
Than you for sharing your story with us. All I have is praise for the way you handled it. I write anthropomorphic stories and I’ll study what you did for technique.
I like that a lot. I’ve never considered laundry as a metaphor for life and my inner psyche, but I think it’s a good one. I be been doing my own laundry since I learned to wash using a tub and washboard and to iron with a real “Iron” that my grandma heated on a cast iron wood burning stove somewhere around 1948 or 49. “I am older than sex, just not quite as old as dirt.”
Creative Writing is a phenomenal world and the journey is essentially a lonely one living in your own mind, but we can pop up here and share the experience periodically.
That is so sad. You made me feel the pain they feel. It could be a man or a woman feeling that. I’ve felt it in some measure a few times.
There are a couple filler words you could throw away and word changes you could make that would evoke images in the readers mind that would add to the impact.
Very good. Thank you for sharing your words and thoughts with us.
Stay safe and enjoy life. It’s a wonderful place to be.
I enjoyed that a great deal. It brought back memories from 1959 when I was in that line on North Island Naval base going through boot camp and getting ready to go in and spend a couple minutes in that chamber. I didn’t hesitate and I remember it was a painful experience and was absolutely required.
The hesitation about crying is understandable, I had a similar experience with crying, but not then. Everyone who came out was crying and we couldn’t see one another anyway. I loved the confusion with flatulence. It made me laugh when I read it.
Thank you for sharing your story with us.
Stay safe and enjoy life. I find I get a lot more writing done when I’m enjoying it.
I liked that, I liked the twist at the end. The fortune teller was a good setup for the trucks brakes squeeling.
It’s difficult for me to point out grammatical errors because Australian English varies from American. In America we wouldn’t say, “...in Main Street...” it would be “...on Main Street...”
Hi, that’s a marvelous little story and I love it. I like that you wrote it so the second character was androgynous so I could step in and live there for a few brief moments. Your words made it a very soft, loving experience for me. Thank you so much.
The only thing that caught my eye was in my opinion more white space would make it a slightly easier and better read. Also, most likely a typo, you say “.. fade with passing of years ..” and I think “... with the passing ...” reads better.
That as beautiful, well, as beautiful as a description of the River Styx and the outer ring of hell can be. I’d pretty much decided what they were seeing, but wasn’t positive until you described her face and their parents fighting.
Your words wrapped themselves around me and pulled me through the whole thing. I hope to be able to do that one day.
Thank you for that story. I have no criticism of it.
I enjoyed your story. In many ways it brought out much of how I feel about life and women. I’m 76 and at a very young age my mother taught me to respect and treat women gently. Actually she taught me that Everyone deserves respect until they earn my disrespect.
I think you missed a word in the statement and, “...although this time it is some the ladies looks that linger...” should be “...is some of the ladies...”
I like your story. It takes a common theme of daemons and gods a gives a twist to the myths. Why couldn’t there be a daemon with a conscience. You present it well and it flows, but there are a couple of most likely typos;
“...never has a demon, no matter how strong, evil, twisted, or rich, has survived the ‘aid’ ...” and most likely should be, “...or rich, ever survived...”
“...careless person make the mistake...” should be “...made the mistake...”
”It could even be teenage punks grafatying some public monument or train car and accidentally painted my ...” should be either “...that accidentally painted my...” or “...accidentally painting my...”
“...whichever careless person make the mistake of...” should read “...person made the...”
The sentence, “The things I saw when I found her hurt and alone,” seems out of place in the paragraph it’s in. Maybe move it to the end where you talk about what he finds.
I’m not sure why you hyphenated wretch-ed and curs-ed, it’s distracting and made me wonder why not just use wretched and cursed.
There are glue words like “that” that can be removed to improve flow and save words. Also I think giving them both names will make them more prominent and pull readers in more closely.
Please take a look at the writing resources available, there are many and I found them helpful with my words. It’s a good story, I like your character, the daemon, he has a conscience. A good start for a larger story.
Thank you for sharing your words with us and keep on writing with a lot of reading and study of the craft thrown in. “Never give up, never give in,” when it comes to your writing.
That is a well written narrative of the time. I’m 76 and lived through it. I believed his messag. My mother taught me that everyone deserves respect and that there’s only one race; The human race.
I liked that a lot. I brought back many fond memories of standing in the flys waiting to go on stage, or being on stage listening to the burble of the audience wondering if I’d be there when the curtains opened. God, I loved that feeling of anxiousness, furiously going over lines with all those words streaming past my eyes like a ticker tape. I can feel the energy from the audience.
Is that really what the musician goes through? You wrote that like you’ve been there on more than one occasion. Your descriptive words were very well done.
One thing confused me. You refer to there being a cloth barrier on the right which means a closed curtain to me then the whole last sentence reads like the performance is starting and the curtain falls. It usually rises or opens to start and falls when it ends.
Thank you for sharing your words with us and all the memories they evoked in me.
I enjoyed your story, it’s a cute interaction between father and son, and is exactly how my 3 sons and 3 daughters and I interact. All of my 17 grand kids that are old enough to ‘play the game’ with me too.
Your words made me believe they’ve been through that and similar
little interactions many times. Thinking about it brought back many memories of those games.
Very good, I like it, it’s a glimpse of a few moments of her mind, maybe a couple of seconds, but what life changing things can happen in a couple seconds. I also like her strength, her ability to say, “I don’t want to, but I will.” With conviction.
An exclamation at the end might add a bit more power to that last statement.
I enjoyed the play of the scene shown through her mind. The way you showed how she hid reality and understanding behind things. Each situation playing like a different reality. Your words made feel sympathy for her, then for him at the end because he’s really taking care of, protecting her. I think he knows what she does.
One thing bothered me, the fact that she seems to keep the doll there to fool herself is well written, but it’s a train and they usually muck those out each day. Unless the doll is a figment of her fantasy too and not real.
One suggestion is to foreshadow the old man. Something like “... alone except for the USUAL sleeping ...”it reads like it happens all the time and may make the ending softer and more caring.
I love your poem. You’ve put together words that catch hold of me and cling, they get inside me and twist too. When you got to her dying alone in bed I started and couldn’t see through the tears by Merry Christmas.
I’m 76 now and went through what she explained while walking my wife of 45 years to that one way door. Alzheimer’s and dementia and I couldn’t leave her side for the last year. She died January 2015. I have few regrets, I did all those walks and play times and have years of memories, but they’re fading.
I have a new girlfriend, a widow that walked her husband there too, cancer, and at some point we’ll have to start thinking about that again, but not for as long as we can stay active and aware.
Thank you for sharing your words with us. It’s a powerful message and I hope many others read it too. There are word changes I’d make, but it is not mine, they’re your words. And, I don’t want too, I want to just enjoy it.
This is something every child should be taught, remember all those wonderful things you do and don’t dwell on the sad ones.
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