Reality
I sat on the fragmented red Ferrari that Grandmother Jane gave to her
dearest grandson, forcing a joyful smile like how I always did for the past 20
years, and hid the silver tears that glistened at the corner of my eyes through
my thick sunglasses. Like Grandmother Jane, I lost the colours of my life.
Isolation. Rejection. And helplessness attacked both of us from night to day. I looked wearily out at the monochrome world, drawing
my attention towards a middle-aged man dressed in mourning, standing under the
dusty mantelpiece. He was gently weeping over the delicate, dustless box that
contained yellow creased photos, which Grandmother Jane used to hold beneath
the full white moon that drifts before a shimmering sky, leaving numerous
diffused spots on the photos of her and her “family” smiling at the camera.
Sealed letters without addresses were neatly stacked inside the box.
They were letters written towards her unseen family members that dumped her in
this dilapidated house.
There was also a little bottle that coldly read out “MORPHINE. WARNING:
do not exceed one tablet per day”. Yet, the bottle was empty.
The cool night gust rushing through the cracks of the house gave the man
shivers down his spine despite his thick leather jacket. He unwillingly noticed
how thin the solitary blanket was on the narrow, crooked bed. A white letter issued
to her family members was placed there, written the day before Grandmother Jane
died.
As he read the wobbly writing on the letter, his body seemed to sway
with the realisation of pain and hopelessness they had given Grandmother Jane. Then,
as if too tired to stand for another moment, he flopped in a creaking chair and
stared at the red Ferrari that blinded him with glamour, but now paid with
sacrifices, casted over long shadows of regret and guilt sitting outside the cracking
window covered with cobwebs…
Author's notes: 317 words!
Sorry for posting it really late! Somehow it sounds really fragmented when i read it over again :/
Please point out my horrible grammar mistakes and any aspects i could improve.
Hope you guys will enjoy it =]
Thank you!
Wow it's so sad... :(
ReplyDeleteI quite like your idea but okay I'M GOING TO BE MEAN! >:| I notice that when you started to focus on the man, you partially lost the confined sort of narrative style that comes with 1st P - you sort of slipped into the omniscient narrator (3rd person?). I think you might just want to bring back the fact that there's an 'I' narrating the story and not exceed the limits of a one-person conscience! :) In saying that, the man looks at the Ferrari which your main character is sitting on, haha I just thought they might have made some sort of connection there; maybe explain why they are there in the house together? ...and at night woo~
Could you explain the significance of the Ferrari as well? You mentioned how it was a luxury bought by sacrifice, but maybe a little more detail? :)
Um, a mantelpiece can't really be stood under; it's like a big stand thing that people put stuff on. How is the Ferrari fragmented? I'm just being pedantic here; you may ignore!
I'm sorry, I'm being harsh. I actually like your story idea. :) Nice use of laconic sentences and even the alliteration. I like how you said it was a dusty mantelpiece but the box was dustless. It's very interesting and gives a little sentiment to the object.
I would go on about how the story is actually still pretty brilliantly constructed, but you should know that it is without me telling you. Your only problems are a few semantic ones. :D
NOW I MUST STOP CRITIQUING BECAUSE I HAVEN'T WRITTEN MY ESSAY. D:
Thank you very much for your detailed comment. You can just keep shooting me with mean ones so that i could improve with my horrible writing... =]
ReplyDeleteI'm too excited to give a critical comment at the moment, because I've actually read a creative that is REALLY REALLY like this creative ... like seriously.
ReplyDeleteIt's like you're a reincarnation of my friend who wrote it.
But sadly I lost the creative some time last year ... now I am more determined to find it ...
THE SIMILARITIES ARE SCARY.
@@ I'm really interested to see how similar it is. Show me it once you've found it!! =]
ReplyDeleteMaybe this has become a really cliched topic to write about :\
I was actually going to critique your story...but then I read Alicia's comment. And I was going to say basically what she said.
ReplyDeleteSo I shall mentioned the things I liked about your story.
I liked the way you showed sentiment rather than telling it, for example: "leaving numerous diffused spots on the photos of her and her “family” smiling at the camera." I particularly enjoyed that sentence because it really conveys her feelings and care for what's precious to her- how she's always holding the photos.
I liked your direct author's voice. It's simple, straight-to-the-point and that can sometimes can be refreshing.
Also, the ending was nice: "red Ferrari that blinded him with glamour, but now paid with sacrifices, casted over long shadows of regret and guilt..." Great description.
Goodnight!
And if there're spelling and grammatical errors in my previous comments, it's because I need sleep.
ReplyDelete