Hello, welcome to WdC. I went straight to your portfolio after I received your review of my micro fiction story. I do hope you’ll continue to write and post more stories here.
I love the lyrical prose you have used in this short story “Sonder.”
How wonderful to have that affect on people who simply cast their eyes upon you. She sounds as if she’s a witch-like creature, bewitching all that see her.
the scars on her hears Did you mean heart?
Anyway please keep writing and welcome to WdC once more.
Hi, Amy-Jo, I’m reviewing this poem as a fellow contestant in ‘I Write.’
You wrote it as a tribute to WdC and obviously from the heart.
I’m sure everyone feels as you do when first getting the nerve up to join here. I know I experienced the same misgivings.
In the first stanza you write how scared and lost you felt. I’m sorry you were hesitant about showing your talent on the site.
Then as you read the words of others it gave you the confidence to show your worth.
It was lovely to read that you were welcomed and encouraged. I expect that it’s the wonderful people here who remember those first few weeks of feeling out of one’s depth.
In the last few lines you show how you want to return the favour and help other newcomers feel welcome too.
It’s a very sweet poem, one in which you weren’t afraid to show your vulnerability but also shows your strength.
Oh, wow. What a great story! That’s some imagination you’ve got going there. It’s dark, pardon the pun, and I think the way it made be feel was unsettled. Yes I’d say the story is unsettling more than horrific. Even thought provoking. Be careful what you wish for.
Good luck with the contest.
Cheers Sue
Nutcracker in Hell (18+) A dancer/musician caught in the destruction of climate change is betrayed by a neighbor #2278990 by Graywriter
and my first thoughts were I liked the title. It certainly fits the prompt, ‘Death in the key of C.’
My favourite paragraph is in chapter four, paragraph seven. Your descriptions of his thoughts about losing all the things he loved about life, were great. You even managed to include final C chord in the story.
In chapter one paragraph 12: Denton reached across the fence, grabbed Carver’s arm and twisted. the dialogue following perhaps should be on a new line as I had to read it twice to be sure it was Carver still speaking and not Denton.
You too, Dent. You bin an okay neighbour, for a fuckin’ libtard fag guitar picker and ballet dancer needs commas.
The only other confusion, (mine! )I thought the relationship between these neighbours, confusing. Perhaps you meant it to be one of mutual dislike with a touch of tolerance. It just seemed as if they begin quite civilly, which then turns violent and returns to a sort of neighbourly concern, before turning to attempted murder? Maybe it needs a bit of back story for these guys?
Anyway thanks for sharing this with me. It’s a great story with startling descriptions of the end of the world as far as these two characters are concerned.
Good luck, A E Wilcox is extremely hard to please.
Death, the messenger of joy and rest. I believe the old and ready to die could receive comfort from that sentence, not so those who had so much life yet to live.
A beautiful poem though. It is an example of evolution, the young and strong inevitably taking over from the old and weak.
Hi, there, welcome to WdC.
I really liked this thought provoking piece. It made me look at my life from being both a child or young adult, to being a parent myself.
I recognise your childhood family. They were mine. Yes they were there for me, yes they loved me, but they never told me I could be something, someone great. It was that expectation of just being, the getting of a job and praying that nothing terrible happens to me whilst alive. It sounds great doesn’t it. But it really isn’t enough.
When I was raising my family I always tried to make the as independent as possible, whilst always being their safety net.
I loved the title of your writing too. No one is coming to save you. So true.
Hi, I’m reviewing this article as part of ‘I write.’
I’m an Australian so I’m not familiar with New York except of course for what’s portrayed in the movies, so I found the information in this piece really interesting. I like the fact of the Bronc’s throwing lavish parties which only the best people attended. I can certainly imagine the throwaway line “are you going to the Bronc’s this weekend was meant to impress other unfortunates who were not invited to some Shindig or other.
I may get asked this question one day at a quiz night. “How did The Bronx get it’s name. It probably won’t happen though, so I’ll just throw it into conversation one day.😂
Well done, cheers Sue.
Good take on the prompt. The fish’s eye view. Poor little things must wonder what’s happening to them being hauled out of their environment and unable to breathe. I wish I didn’t eat fish.😩
Cheers Sue
That’s so sweet and so sad at the same time. I’m sure you’ve reflected since that time so long ago that a girl needs more than a presumption of a relationship. I liked the fact that because you thought one thing you presumed she was thinking the same. You were very young, it breaks my heart to imagine how you felt when she sprung the “I’m engaged” conversation.
Isn’t it amazing though the power of musical association?
Thank you so much for sharing your painful memories.
Cheers Sue
Nice little story plus a great little song. I’ve never heard the song but it’s really catchy, something you could really grow to love.
Your story fits the music and lyrics. A story of regret but also one which made me feel a sense of relief for Chris’ sake.
Jazz wouldn’t have been good for him and I was pleased he had the foresight to imagine a future that would’ve turned sour.
Thank you for sharing, I enjoyed the read.
Cheers Sue
Hi, Jeff, thank you so much for this thought provoking question and answer to a blog prompt.
It’s good to get an insight into one’s reaction to such questions. I think you answered as honestly as you could, but none of us really know what we’d do until we faced with such a dilemma.
It’s no good to anyone if we are willing to sacrifice ourselves and our families for the sake of others. We do need to think of ourselves first. No doubt there are those who are so self sacrificing and by being so feel we are teaching our children that this is what it means to be a good person.
Perhaps a refugee would be so desperate that he wouldn’t care where he was so long as he was safe, but how unfair it would be to him to have to hide feelings of resentment when having another human being constantly underfoot begins to irk..
Foster carers are a group of people who have my utmost respect and admiration. I wish I had their capacity for empathy and love to those who are desperately in need.
Thanks, Jeff, for sharing this thought provoking piece. Let us hope if we were called on we would do the right thing.
Hi Whiskerfacebythefireplace
I’m reviewing this chapter as a part of ‘I Write.’ I have read a chapter of yours before and although I’m not up with what’s been happening, I did enjoy reading.
I sat down with my pen in hand to jot down anything I thought I could suggest in the way of improvements or spelling or grammar and didn’t write down one solitary thing.
I love the easy flow of dialogue, it’s certainly one of your strengths. Even when not a lot happens to progress the story, the gentle back and forth of the conversation is really lovely.
I may meet this story again a little further along which would be great. I wish you all the luck in the world for this novel.
Cheers Sue
Hi, Carly, what a fun story.
I really enjoyed it as it showed what could happen when you begin to read a story with the aim of editing. You could get dragged into the pages and experience all sort of intrigues and even a love scene, whether you want to be there or not!
Anyway thank goodness it was a dream.
There are a few punctuation errors such as in the first paragraph: ”I've heard about you." I say staring down at the photograph. I pulled out of the envelope along with the manuscript Margaret had forwarded to me.
“I’ve heard about you,” I say, staring down at the photograph which I pull out of the envelope, along with the manuscript Margaret had forwarded to me.
Hi, Jim, I’m reviewing this lovely poem for ‘I Write’.
It’s beautifully written from the heart. I wondered if perhaps you may have been the naughty Jimmy?
I loved the conversational tone the poem has. It reminds me of a woman relating the story to her neighbour. They would be agreeing and tut-tutting about kids and lack of respect etc.
But the mother realises they were there to have fun, reconnect, and relax. Sometimes it’s difficult to wind down and let things slide but I’m pleased the mother was able to see what she was about to spoil. A chance to have fun.
Thank you so much for sharing this delight.
Cheers Sue
Hello, I’ve just read your piece about being old. I have reached that part of life and I’m not at ease with it. Have not accepted the senseless of it either.
You raise a great question in your first line. Even though I’m there, I still can’t answer your question. Would I rather be young? Probably not.
Would I go back to start again? Probably not.
The knowledge one has achieved is priceless. Life seems to make sense somehow. And yet there is no shortcut to take, we all have to plod the same path to where I am right now.
I wish I could answer your question.
I liked the poem, I liked the way it was set out, but remember that writing, in whatever form is always better with punctuation.
This story made me laugh out loud. It reminds me of the time we had a mother possum with a baby on her back, in the top of a cupboard. As my husband grabbed the mother to take her outside, her baby dropped off and ran up his leg. I laughed so much. I couldn’t help him but he eventually managed to get them both out of the house.
Thank you so much for sharing.
Hi, Emma again, I’m just browsing through your port and feel as if I’m getting to know you a little.
This story about your relationship with your biological dad is one that many children have gone through. It’s hard when an innocent child’s eyes are opened to the truth but I’m proud of the way you stood your ground and decided for yourself that the relationship wasn’t in your best interest. One day you may think differently and decide to reconnect with your dad but that will be on your terms.
I have a granddaughter who’s relationship with her estranged father wasn’t good. Fortunately he lost interest in her when she was very young. His loss, because she has four beautiful children of her own who he will never know. No doubt you will have your own family too and your dad will miss out on ever knowing them. Karma maybe.
You expressed yourself in a very mature way in the telling. Well done.
Cheers Sue
Hi Emma, Really, the things dog get in to when left to their own devices. June sounds like a sweet little dog, I love her name, was she born in June?
I’ve seen pictures of dogs with all four legs through the holes in a hammock, looking very confused as to how they got themselves into such a mess.
I hope your story does well in the contest.
Cheers Sue
Hi, Kåre Enga in Udon Thani I was just scanning for something to review and came across this poem of yours.
There are many people who are just like your ageing turtle doves. They are looking for love, companionship or just a friend to help them as they age.
It’s a sweet poem, you old romantic.
I liked the form of six couplets an ideal one for this topic.
Cheers Sue
Hello and welcome to WdC. I have read your poem and it resonated with me. A one sided love story. It’s hard to end a relationship and even harder to try to explain why. Your poem was a good attempt at doing so and perhaps the spurned lover could have accepted this poem as a reason without feeling devastated.
The words of the poem are good, expressive and well thought out. But don’t forget that even poetry needs punctuation. It helps the meaning you want to portray easier to follow. Three dots are enough in an ellipsis though.
Good job, thanks for sharing.
Cheers Sue
Description overload in this story. It has a menacing undertone alright, but I couldn’t help but smile imagining all the troop of creatures from the underworld making their way to your door.
Obviously they were easily satisfied by the small gifts and although they were short on dialogue they left your doorstep meekly clutching their pieces of candy bars and little candles. It was sweet in a kind of way.
Maybe they hadn’t expected to end up being a witch, dragon, werewolf or monster, but it had happened without their knowledge and had caused confusion.
However when the treat wasn’t available they seemed to realise negotiating wasn’t on the cards and a payment was expected.
Oh dear, next Halloween I shall have my front lights turned off and maybe an early night may be in order.
That’s such a powerful poem, Carly. I loved the expressiveness of the words you chose. I waited for the pain but none came I could almost see her as the realisation he had actually gone, hit her. I liked how she let herself see that her world wasn’t about to come crashing down around her but that maybe things could be even better without him in her life.
Great job.
Cheers Sue
Hi, there. I’m reviewing this great poem as part of ‘I Write’
You just about said it all in these lines of poetry. I expect there will be much written about this time in our history but you covered the gist of it all. The loss of freedom, the pain of loss of life and the damage to the economies of the whole world. The last line was pretty spot on too. The human race is not that great. We have done our best to get on top of this illness, but there will be others which may manage to wipe out the human race eventually. As you say though the world will keep on turning and be better off without us.
Hi, Jeff, I’m reviewing this as a part of I Write. I played ‘We don’t talk about Bruno’ and
I have to say that it’s a song that certainly wouldn’t be played often enough in my house to give me an ear worm. Heavy metal is not my thing, but each to his own.
But you certainly managed to write a nice piece about Andre’s obsession with one song. I think we all get stuck on one song every now and again. As a musical theatre fan, my ear worm candidates are usually show tunes. I think the last soundtrack was from the musical movie La La Land. I played it constantly for weeks. It’s quite a relief when eventually you get sick of hearing it.
Anyway good job.
Cheers Sue
This story gave me a chuckle. Your descriptions were very real. I felt for the poor child, not only for the obvious sickness but for being in such a predicament without someone to love and care for him. I’m presuming the character was a boy but of course I could be mistaken.
Though I would have found it easier to read if the big blocks of text were divided into seperate paragraphs, the story was interesting enough to hold my attention.
Well done.
Cheers Sue
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