Thanks for the criticism and suggestions, James. I
James.
Flash Fiction / The Postman
On August 15, 1924, Elizabeth Ashbrook, sitting on the parlor windowsill, watched a well dressed postal courier park his bike at the family’s expansive estate’s gate and remove a brown paper parcel. Elizabeth saw that he was young, perhaps a few years older than her, 24 she would decide later. His face would be pink with excursion, she imagined, his teeth white and a bit uneven--though not enough to make him unattractive-- and his hair would be brown like her brother’s, though not so juvenilely windswept.
Holding the parcel in one hand and smoothing his well worn blue coat against his body with the other, the postman started towards the house. Elizabeth respected that the civil servant had the pride to walk to the door as opposed to rushing down the gravel lane on his bicycle as though he were like Ms. Snough, her uneducated, immigrant housekeeper who could be heard making a ruckus on the second floor moving from room to room. Looking at the postman, Elizabeth mimed the boy’s previous action, moving her hands down her frustratingly immature green satin dress that she had asked her aunt to make.
The postman was halfway down the lane, each approaching step more resolved and formal. But this did not make him less appealing, instead, Elizabeth’s saw with her mind’s eye a young boy just returned from the war. He would have been young when he served, and no doubt towards the end. Perhaps he had been orphaned or maybe he had been obliged by honor to fight after his friend was killed in a French village, cornered into a burning barn. The more formal his steps the more appropriate it seemed to Elizabeth. The postman would certainly fit in her brother’s uniform that was hung so carefully behind her along the parlor wall.
Taking a French, pearl-encrusted brush to her hair, Elizabeth watched the post man stop and breath with his head inclined towards the ground. The shoulders of the young man momentarily lost its rigid formality before his head snapped forwards, his body straightened with granite resolve. He approached the house and was soon lost to her behind one of the porch’s white-washed Victorian pillars.
Leaping from the window while throwing the brush aside, Elizabeth raced to the door. She saw the man approach through the near-transparent cotton overhanging the entrances’ glass oval centerpiece. The postman removed his crisp hat from his head and tucked it in the crutch of his arm—just as was expected of him. Checking to make certain she was alone, Elizabeth opened the door.
The postman was short. He stood at only five foot six and yellow, oily hair lay plastered against his blotchy, sun-damaged skin. He smiled showing tobacco-stained teeth and when slightly bowed presented Elizabeth with a heavy cologne of sweat and fried fish.
Non-pulsed, Elizabeth smiled at the postman and widened the door. He rose from his position while offering the brown parcel forwards. But before he could speak Elizabeth spread apart her legs and lifted the green dress above her naked waist.
She stared at him.
Silent, Elizabeth took the parcel from his now limp hand and closed the door. The boy watched her silhouette disappear into the house.
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sjvance reviewed Version 1 -
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Interesting read. You do leave out a lot to make the characters solid, but it works as a story. I do wonder more about her though, which is what you were trying to achieve. I enjoyed reading it, but felt there should be more. The illusion of the man and him not living up to it was very interesting. You described what she saw of him well.
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jhmckeogh reviewed Version 1 -
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breath—> breathe
from your notes, you want to avoid empathy and “show what the characters do.” That being, consider changing the perspective. Right now your in elizbeth’s head. the reader knows “what she’ll think later” as well what the postman looks like relative to her memories of her brother.
if you have the narrator step back even further, to third person objective, i think that would accomplish your goals for the piece. No thoughts, no memories, just dialogue, action, and scene.
You can do a lot of “her remembering” by describing the army suit that belonged to her brother, how it was neatly pressed or wrinkled, how it had or had not been worn recently…. how it was in a place of honor of the house.
cheers,
james
orangemilkcrate reviewed Version 1 -
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Overall, I liked the piece. There were quite a few awkward parts, though.
“at the family’s expansive estate’s gate and remove a brown paper parcel” in the first paragraph made the sentence awkward, I thought, and difficult to read.
the use of would be in the first couple paragraphs seemed wrong, but i understood why you used it. however, i’m wondering if there’s a better way to put this that would make it clearer that she is thinking of what he will be like when he comes to the door.
in the fourth paragraph, his head is inclined towards the ground, which doesn’t seem right. i think you mean declined?
overhanging in the fifth paragraph didn’t work. just try hanging over or draped over or something along those lines.
and, don’t get me wrong, i love the shocking, i love the offensive, i love the true human nature, all of it, but i didn’t think you accomplished it well with her lifting up her skirt. was she standing and propped her leg up on the door and lifted her skirt? the matter of fact-ness of it is just fine, but it seemed out of character for her and just came out of nowhere in a “wow, where did that come from?” way instead of in a “wow, i didn’t expect that!” sort of way.
all in all, though, good start and i’d really like to see where it goes!
Jollybob reviewed Version 1 -
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I like the style you chose that detaches the reader from the characters. Painting a picture of Elizabeth’s fixation on her brother’s death by juxtoposing details about the postmen and her brother. I do think that some of the wording could be tightened to be made even more, as you said “Just the facts ma’m.” You could for example simplify or expand upon “the family’s expansive estate’s gate” by insted describing the ornate or gilded look of the gate. This implys the wealth of Elizabeth and her family (‘show don’t tell’) and engages the audience more by forcing them to make that connection.
drbailey reviewed Version 1 -
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Dear Stranger,
You have a very good grasp on the art of narration. I see in your description that you don’t want us to enter the heads of your characters, to understand what they’re thinking. I feel as if some of the first few paragraphs do this by implying what Elizabeth has decided or thought—such as making decisions about the mans age, et cetera. You could easily find ways around this, but I’m only suggesting it.
I really like the way that the mailman is described one way, as if whimsical on Elizabeth’s part, from far away and then different as he comes closer. This is a great mechanical instrument you have chosen, and I think it is nice.
I’m at a loss as to why she pulls up her dress, but I think that was your intention. For me to be lost. I only wish I was in on the esoteric secret.
All in all, I really enjoyed the character sketch. What was the time period? (I was feeling wwi or ii—it reminded me a lot of “a long engagement”)
Stay Cool,
D.R.
xtx reviewed Version 1 -
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Interesting and engrossing. We learn about- or surmise things about- the characters through their action, though it leaves only precious little to do so with. I liked it as a sort of tiny slice of life. Check for typos though, there are a few.
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