I could smell the sweet scents of summer all through reading this piece. Okay, so it is partly because it is summer here as I am writing this. I sympathize with the needing to go out to warm up from the overworked air conditioning. I am a winter baby and most of the time I am pretty warm, but my sister was a summer baby and it seems like she was almost always cold.
Frozen watermelon sounds delicious. Being on a parade route sounds cool. I almost never got to see parades live, we lived in the suburbs of Denver and it seemed like the parades were always happening in downtown Denver. My parents couldn't ever seem to get us out of the house in time to see them. We did do fireworks though. I remember them scaring me. Especially the year we watched them from Denver Metropolitan College. That was about the last time I saw the fireworks with my whole family together, that fall my parents got separated and Dad was a vet and had never really enjoyed the fireworks anyway because of undiagnosed PTSD.
Interesting chapter, highly tantalizing, The characters seemed a little flat though. They seemed like the stereotypical stuff shirts and lacked some of the depth that really draws you into a story. I think it is because the chapter is so short. I would extend it a little and weave in some sensory details on the setting.
What is the weather like. Set the atmosphere of the story. If you are aiming for a mystical flair, what kind of weather do you see when you close your eyes and say mystical. If you are going scientific, what should the weather be doing? Think about how the scenes are lit. Is it by the flickering of candles or the color-draining lighting of fluorescent lighting?
What are the background noises? Is there smoke in the air? SHould there be more conversation than that? Or are these to men just that to the point. If they are having drinks you would think they would chat a bit not just blurt out the clandestine plans and leave.
What makes the hotel perfect for him to stay there? Isn't there something we can learn about the first character from his home surroundings. Does he have all the trappings of a mystic scattered around his house or is he orderly and neat?
I just was left with a lot of questions about things when I got to the bottom of the page.
what a lovely little acrostic poem. I liked where it rhymed. i loved the alliteration in the first line. It described movies quite well. it is short but the form dictates it shouldn't be any longer. I was satisfied by the length it wrapped itself up nicely.
Creepy, very creepy. I kind of saw the twist coming I felt like the main character would turn into a ghoul the moment he saw it. The ghoul eating his brother was a bit of a surprise. Overall the tone and style of speech uplifted the creep factor. THank you for a very disturbing romp through fiction.
interesting piece, a lot of contradictions. This person seems to be an exercise in contradictions, an oxymoron. Someone I would like to learn more about. I think it would be better done in a show don't tell kind of way though. Show how they contradict themselves don't just string two contradictory statements together.
this is a very good scene very illustrative of falling out of love before one has fallen too hard. I can see this pair never seeing one another again. i can see them walking the same path with others and running into one another but not seeing each other.
YOu really feel the color in this piece it personifies it as something of a mother. The way it rocks you to sleep. I love the scene that this piece puts in my head. it is endearingly pleasant. There is no conflict, no real story to this. It is more of a poem in prose form.
do I sense a fear of beards? Okay but what can a beard have to do with the ability of a player to play their sport well? I don't understand the correlation. Maybe the extra time other players put into smoothing their faces, bearded players put into learning the game?
That was an emotional story. was it really cracks in reality or the delusions of a dying brain? you really get inside of her head and it isn't a nice place to be. i feel for her and like she ended up in the meadow. I would have been really unhappy if it had been the other place.
What a sweet little love poem. it sounds really good when I read it aloud. i really like it. it is on the informal side but that is okay. not all poems have to be written to please the slide rule and stuffed-shirt crowd. I think you should show it to your love and see what they think. That is the true test of a love poem.
oh, that is gut-wrenching! Very good job! it really didn't matter to me that you didn't create the characters. You did them proud. I really feel stoic's anguish. Can I say very good job again without seeming to gush? I am working on my ability to express emotion through my writing right now and I know it isn't always as easy as one might think.
This was hard to read. There were a lot of grammatical errors. It was hard to follow, but i did pick up that it was essentially a list of pretty bloody battles. There were characters but they were pretty flat. I wonder if this wasnt something inadequately translated from another language
Beautiful! It is a beautiful "snapshot" of what the creative process can feel like. I love the passion the main character has for photography. The contest seems an unreachable goal but the fact that he comes in second to someone so obviously better prepared than he is shows his potential. I love the generosity of the woman who wins the contest and the friendship they form. Excellent story at least worthy of ten stars!!!!
My only criticism is that the last three words should be two- outer space. It was a very interesting storyline it seemed a bit rushed but I loved it. I feel bad that the main character died, and apparently a lot of other people too. the ufo bit was alarming.
what a perfect end for such a despicable creature. i like the way you made me care just enough about what happened to him that I wasn't sure I wanted it to, but then you made him horrible from the beginning and I was rooting her on whole heartedly from the first hints of her transformation
This is a sad story. Unfortunately, men like the silver fox are all too common in America. I admire the author for volunteering to help men like this and I too share the guilt of not helping when I could have. I would hope there are more people out there like the author. I can vividly see the scene based on the dialog and tone. I can see the silver fox wobbling his way out of the bar and off into the night where he finds a semi-sheltered corner somewhere to curl up and pass out. It sounds like a sad life.
Ooh. I hadn't realized there were so many ways an apple could be thought of. A lot of the symbolism is pretty dark. If you think about it for such a tasty fruit it is really portrayed in a bad light in most literature. All because of the forbidden fruit thing which is weird since nobody alive can for certain say the tree of knowledge was an apple tree.
I am not quite sure what happened here, I think it was a tornado, but it could have just as easily been some kind of timeslip that wiped away the house from having ever existed. The characters are just as unclear to me. I am not sure about their full relationships, I don't know how old people are. It just seems kind of messy to me.
Interesting short story. I love the very limited point of view. The way her mind comes and goes. It reveals the story in a piecemeal way ever more satisfying than a simple omniscient info dump would have been. I appreciate the skill with witch this story has been assembled. I wonder how much longer the main character can keep this up.
This is an interesting story, very experimental in style. I like the gounhog day aspects of it. It is very hard to follow though. Dialog is usually set off with "quotation" marks. Other punctuation is lacking. The spelling seems pretty good but i think the whole thing would benefit from a grammar check
Oh what a sweet story. I love pip. It is sweet but bittersweet. It reminds me that my furbabies will not always be with me in the fur. I hope pip's family is ready to come home to life without him.
this is a good poem, well written. I love the humorous take on memory loss. I also know that it isn't as funny when it happens to you. Memory loss is a scary thing when you realize it's happening to you. I like the humor but I don't want people to forget the serious side of it.
This is a good poem about the risks of love. The poet seems to be honestly cautionary with prospective suitors. Her self assessment is frankly one I sympathize with though I have not been hurt so many times that stabbing first is my first reaction. I guess I am more the patiently healing type.
I heartily approve of this assessment of what it takes to be a woman. I can't think of a thing you left off that I would add, and I wouldn't subtract any of your points either. I wish I could claim the words of this poem to apply to myself but I have too poor a self-image to see myself as beautiful.
Very nice piece. I love the way human greed led to the complete loss of control for the whole human race. I am glad this wasn't just another dystopian hate the machine terminator knock off. it seemed an almost pleasant conquest of humanity. it leaves me hopeful that maybe it won't be so bad to be a slave to the machine empire.
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