Yeah, it's a predictable prompt after yesterday but we're doing it anyway. Write a scene where two or more people interact but never actually speak to one another. Where yesterday we were focusing on building a relationship through words only, today try to focus on building the relationship through the world.
If you want feedback, ask for it. If someone asks for feedback, please tell them what you think.
Also, after today I'm going to be moving over to #todayswritingprompt. Update your tags.
Chris didn't know it, but he died today. With a simple squeeze, he ended two lives. It wasn't out of hate or greed. Not his, at least. It was a job, a mission, an unfortunate side effect of his profession. Though he'd never met the real Rabar, over the next year the man would come to him again and again, haunting his every breath. Did he have a wife? A child? Grandchildren? Each time was different, though strangely the same. In the end, it didn't matter. With one hand on the wheel and the other gripping a bottle, Chris closed his eyes and pushed the pedal to the floor. Hope this isn't too late to be submitted. Feedback is always welcome.
Good. I think you have a very good conceptual skill and I like how well the concept tied everything together. It's very cryptic in content which makes for a nice little progression from one death to the other. But it's also kind of cryptic in description so it feels like it hops around a lot. Maybe working on transitions, but I think part of it is the fact that so much time passes in such a small story. You could try to keep Chris in his car, he kills from the car, he thinks in the car, he drives around depressed in the car, he dies in the car, that might cement the reader into the reality. Like I said, the concept is great and if you get the physical descriptions it'll be amazing.
Thanks for the review. Agreed on the setting, I had the same feeling of "skipping" for lack of a better term. I appreciate the kind words.
The reflection of the fire against the amber color in her eyes intensified her gaze. The bonfire roared , and the students cheered in victory into the night sky. The outcome of the game didn't change that moment for Gabriel. He slowly made his approach; with every step thinking of how to break the ice. Maybe something simple? A compliment? His time was up. Aurelia Laurant, the french exchange student, stood right next to him. She glanced at him revealing a charming smile, and he replied in kind. Music slowly began to build from the trunk of a students car. Her smile widened revealing a straight set of teeth as the music got louder. With a rhythm that followed the music with deadly accuracy she swayed. Without much control Gabe accepted her invitation. Her gaze had lost it's intensity, but gained a quality of intoxication. Gabe rocked from left to right with her; the whole time hoping time would work on repeat for a bit. The song finally ended, and with it the moment. Aurelia smiled once more before being pulled into the crowd by her friends for the next song. This was written really quickly before I had to go to work, so it's rough. Feel free to set phaser to destroy.
I actually really like this. You might be able to tell from my other feedback that I like to be able to "see" the scene and I felt like I could in this one. Maybe expand the setting out a bit, building the ground with the sky, but that's pretty minor. There's good feelings and a pleasant conclusion. I like it.
The young man walks through the park, a crumpled, greasy bag in hand. The birds chirp, the squirrels skitter along, in search of the next nut. The sun shines, brilliantly. On a bench, an old man sleeps. He is ragged looking, many nights on a bench will leave anyone the same. Newspapers scatter in the wind, one man's news is another man's blanket. The old man stirs, groggily rubbing his eyes. The young man stands before him, offering the greasy bag. A grubby hand reaches out, while a shabby head nods. The young man continues on, with a swelling heart. _______________________________________________________________________________ Open to discussions/suggestions. :)
I think the only think I would suggest that hasn't been suggested is varying the beginnings of your sentences. Too many "the"s for my taste.
A pleasant little story! I do like your descriptions. However, your comma usage seems a little jarring. Try mixing up your sentence structure a little more and using transition words. Maybe a little more like this? On a bench, an old man sleeps. He is ragged looking; many nights on a bench will leave anyone the same. Newspapers scatter in the wind. After all, one man's news is another man's blanket. The old man stirs, groggily rubbing his eyes. Before him, the young man stands, offering the greasy bag. A grubby hand reaches out, while a shabby head nods. The young man continues on with a swelling heart.
Yeah, i've always had a problem with commas. I like them... a lot. Thanks for the feedback!
thank you for the feedback! I was going for brevity... but if I were to flesh out the characters more, what would you suggest?
She sat beside me on the overstuffed sofa. Her shoulders crumpled under a heavy burden, her eyes chained to the floor. If I wasn't holding her hand, she might have sunk between the cushions, beyond my grasp. I remained silent as she told me her story. Her voice was clipped, occasionally tightening in tune with her hand. She was a shell of her former self, but I still greedily drank in her beautiful form, the faint lilt of her accent, the impossible softness of her palm. When she finished, I opened my mouth to respond, but could not find the words. She remained still. It was only when I stood and left that I heard a soft whimper follow me out. -- What is a story without feedback? You are always free to tell me what you think, brutally or otherwise.
The simplicity of the relationship is nice, and I like the emotional lopsidedness. Even when the narrator cannot speak with the weight of what he's (she?) heard he still isn't as emotionally low. In my mind I can see this overstuffed sofa, the shape of this girl who, through her body language is just wrecked, and a boy with puppy dog lust lapping it up, but the rest is kind of hazy. I can certainly feel these people, I just can't see them or their surroundings. But that was the immediate goal, and too much more length to the story might have taken away its beautiful snapshot quality, so take it for what it's worth.
Thank you for the comment, and I'm glad my major point made it across! I've been practising showing without telling in my quest to write a decent short story. Scene description has always been my biggest struggle. When is it necessary? What is enough to build the set, but too much that it takes from your imagination? I have read books light on imagery and felt like I couldn't picture it, while others have far too much and become an absolute drag or contain seemingly useless inserts that have no real place in the story. I can paint you a lovely picture of the room they set in, but do you actually care about that?
It's subjective at the end of the day, so I can't say for sure. One thing I noticed in your story was that her eyes were chained to the floor. Without that, the whole scene took place neatly on the couch and that was fine, but since the character now existed outside of the couch I had a notion of a bigger space with no information to fill it in so it was like a white space in the word painting. Some other interaction with the floor, like the guy keeping a foot down because the hard wood grounded him, or the girl's gaze staring far beyond the deep shag, would have built out that part of the scene and filled in the gap. But yeah, that's subjective.