wow. A rating slating. Ok, well I will change what you have suggested, they are not serious issues. I wanted to change a few of the dialogue tags too. Hopefully that will improve it. It seems this may be a hate it love it kind of thing.
Short Story / Saccharine dream (Analysis)
The finished cigarette was burning to a stump in the mug I had used for coffee that afternoon. My stomach was rumbling and I wouldn’t cook. The only option I had would be to brave the college canteen. I was never sure if my hunger would dissipate instantly if my nose were to smell the vapors blowing harshly through the canteen extractor.
“I hope its not macaroni cheese,” I said, talking to myself.
“I hate macaroni cheese”. I rolled the word macaroni around my mouth over and over.
I left my room and walked across the grass to the canteen. It was easier to cut across, than walk around, although it was forbidden. I had never been told differently, had never been caught by a college fellow, and even if I had I would have done it again anyway.
As I passed the caretakers lodge I remembered how the night before I had stood by the entrance to the main hall pulling on a cigarette. I had emptied my mind on cue to the rasp of a match. I was there a few moments staring at the sky.
Andy, care if I join you? I heard behind me.
Nathan stood puffed and jovial.
“How you doing me’old mucker,” he said, in his customary extravagance.
Shrugging my shoulders I said, “Im good”.
“Do you want a match? Take it,” I said,” handing him the strip.
The caretaker warmly patted Nathan on his shoulder as he passed into the building.
“Don’t forget to be at the committee meeting tomorrow,” Nathan said as he disappeared.
Turning back around he was beaming a great big smile as if to get the best from me.
“How’s things Andy”.
“Ok,” I said, “I haven’t heard anything from Katie”
“You’re still thinking about that,” he said, “Come an’have a drink on me”
I could never say no, not to Nathan. He was constantly inflated and I never wanted to let him down. Nathan had a swagger; a symptom of his past. His formal dress was fitting for Cambridge. He wore a tailor made jacket that fit his large frame and broad shoulders without a crease. His shoes highlighted his well groomed personality. He was educated at Rugby but that wasn’t unusual round here. What I liked about him was the way he carried himself and his decanters of spirits.
Come on, I said, dropping my cigarette butt, get us something strong.
Nathan turned back into the illuminated college bar.
One thing about this place was you were never in danger. Cambridge was surrounded by an invisible bubble that separated it from the rest of England; Earth even. The longer you stayed the smaller it got. If you were very unlucky or bookish enough it would shrink down small enough to wrap you up.
The bar was aglow and tempting.
Nathan, heaving in laughter, handed me a glass of cognac. The bar man was bragging about some drink; the half frightened waif was trying his best to compete with Nathan’s gregariousness.
“Let’s have some,” Nathan said.
“Andy will have some too”
He poured two large quantities of liquor into clean glasses and sat them down on the bar.
“Drink,” Nathan said, picking up a glass and thrusting it into my hand.
“Drink it and all will be fine”.
It made my chest ache just him saying that.
“I know,” I said.
The drink went down like velvet.
“This place is so bleak,” I said. “Why somebody doesn’t do something about it I can’t imagine. It’s depressing”.
Nathan’s rosy face was full to bursting; his eye brows raised.
“Another cigarette?” He said.
“Come on mate. If you don’t call her I know she will call you eventually. I don’t mean to be tough or anything but I will be honest. She’s probably discovering something she needs to discover. It’s not like your situation is ideal. She’ll call you eventually. Trust me.”
Yep, I said.
Nathan was staring into his glass as he sloshed the drink around before him.
“I’ve never been in your situation,” he said, “but it’s the same old story. It hurts but believe me if you start resisting it will make it more painful”.
I downed the second glass of the strong stuff and slammed the glass down hard. It made a low thud on the bar.
We stood outside in the autumn night puffing with momentous silence. To me everything was poised and ready to speak. Everything loaded. The moon, cut in half, was deafening.
I’d had enough so I said goodnight and walked back across the lawn.
I checked my phone for messages as soon as I got back then wrote a letter and put it in the draw with the other letters. Next I went through a bed time ritual and stood outside in the doors alcove and smoked another cigarette. My thoughts were not here but far away; Very far away...
There was one blue grey sky scrapper that stood out amongst the others. If you looked up it was possible to make out a puff of steam joining the low clouds. A light morning breeze would be catching the dark river waves below the Brooklyn Bridge. I had been visualizing New York for the previous six months since I had returned. I have been writing about it. A city I know very little about and yet I pretend to know everything because I have imaged it so. The city sits upon a shore, like an English shore, but its buildings are more solid, its streets a clockwork metropolis, its people a blend of my own making. I attempt to pick it apart but here I realize I falter. I know only its perfection; I can not pick it apart. I write about it over and over with compulsion but it’s unfathomable. The one time I visited was flawless but I came to Cambridge. I made a mistake and now I want to destroy New York with affection. I can either irradiate it from my thought, which is impossible, or chase it and destroy its memory some other way. If I don’t I will always want it. My mind was settled. I had to make it to New York.
Early the next morning I walked to check the mail and saw the caretaker talking to the cleaners. I had imagined that what they said was unimportant. For a moment I took in the full scene: The grass, the student rooms, the main hall, the slanting tree. How these were placed together was unimportant. The most interesting feature was the shadow of the tree and how its spindly bud barren twigs were twinkling.
When I got back I made coffee, put on a song by Bob Dylan and smoked three cigarettes in a row. I smoked until it felt sickening then had another coffee listening to the smiths. I took out some paper and wrote about the caretakers day and then about the contradiction of an elephant falling into a black hole. The elephant, aware of itself, would fall in and disappear but an observer on Earth would just watch it inch closer and closer to its final, never occurring, demise. Viewed from Earth it would remain stuck on the event horizon; Stuck forever. It meant there were two elephants; one dead and one alive. It was like Schrödinger’s cat. You could never know anything unless you could see it, touch it, and smell it. Sense it I mean. I could never know about her. I was so out of touch like everybody is out of touch. We are all in boxes with someone wondering on the outside. My desire to believe, with certainty, about the uncertain, like Schrödinger wanting to know his cat is okay, will almost certainly lead to delusions.
I told her that when she eventually called. I said I was her man in a box. I think she thought I was crazy.
Just hearing hello was enough for me. I loved her sweet American voice.
“I’ve been thinking about you,” I said.
We talked for a few minutes about trivialities.
“I’m getting casting work almost everyday now,” she said.
“That’s great!”
I was excited for her.
“I can’t wait too see you,” I said, “Christmas is soon!”
There was a long pause.
“Andy…”
My heart sped up as I became aware of my breath in the earpiece…
“I’ve met someone”…
I knew it was coming but my rationality evaporated.
“I know,” I said, with a start.
Our words superimposed and I believed for a moment I had felt her breath through the mouthpiece.
After the phone went dead things became artificially brilliant.
The last thing I said was
“I can’t imagine waking not thinking of you”
Those words fell upon the open line.
“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s every said to me,” she said.
There were many fragments. My mind wondered far; too far.
The thud of the sidewalk traversed up my legs as I rushed along 5th avenue. The regularity of the pounding was fast. The tall buildings, orange from the partially sunken sun, trapped me. People passed, escaping my assuming eyes and some flanked me, huffing with their business attire. Adrift in the crowds I watched the attractive professional women crossing the street, hailing cabs home. I had made it following an impulse. Nothing I had dreamed was real but it had consequences. How had I ended up here and where was that place Katie had taken me two years before? It had been a saccharine dream. I saw an image of myself sitting at my desk writing about an imaginary city but that person had become an idealised image too. On the curb a pensive woman was waiting for a lift. I watched in fascination as a pair of sharp oblivious eyes stared at me and drew me into their playful persona; a daily occurrence. Delusions ran high in New York. The woman stepped off the curb into a cab; her presence dissolving. Yes, I can have anything I want here or anywhere. It’s all waiting for me.
The rush hour traffic heaved along. A saxophonist’s sound rolled over the noise of horns and cry’s and sounded authentic. I listened to it draw out as I ducked down into a subway entrance; one madhouse replaced by another.
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axiom49 reviewed Version 1 -
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avedis reviewed Version 1 -
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You’ve caught the swinging moods here very well. Missing her, losing her for real. Good imagery, well built main character. Mainly a monologue, you avoided it becoming boring.
Good job.
Just a few suggestions for tidying/tightening some of it:
“The finished cigarette” – “My discarded cigarette” (It was still burning).
“rumbling and I wouldn’t” – > “don’t”, “won’t”,”refused to”, “couldn’t” (Any of these give us more info about your character).
“I was…canteen extractor.” Satisfied/repelled? – > “There was always a good chance that my hunger would dissipate instantly when my nose were exposed to the unsavoury odours blowing harshly through the canteen extractor.”
“I had never been told differently,” – > “No one had directly informed ME,”
“Turning back…best from me.” – > “Turning back around he was beaming a great big smile as trying to win favor.” (“Be endearing” etc)
Also “as he disappeared.” and “Turning back around” are contradictory. – > “As he walked away”.
““Let’s have some,” Nathan said. “Andy will have some too”” Let’s indicates us, which includes Andy. -> ““Let me have some,”
““Another cigarette?” He said.” ‘He said’ doesn’t suggest the next sentence is his. -> ““Another cigarette?” He offered me the pack.”
“It made a low thud on the bar. We stood outside in the autumn” You need a scene transition here. – > “Moving outside, we stood in the autumn night puffing with momentous silence”
“wrote a letter and put it in the draw with” – > “wrote a letter, but then placed it in the draw with all the others”
“Next I went through a bed time ritual…alcove and” – > “Then, following my bed time ritual, I went and stood outside in the door alcove and…”
“thoughts were not here”. This is the past – > “thoughts were not there”
“morning breeze would be catching the” Ditto – > “morning breeze that caught the”
“the previous six months since” – > “the previous six months, ever since”
You keep forgetting tense in a lot of what follows. You are talking the past, yet present is as current. Be consistent.
“I can either irradiate ” -> “I can either irradicate “
“The elephant, aware of itself, would fall in and disappear ” Not to itself. delete ‘and disapear’.
“its final, never occurring, demise” – > “its final, but never occurring, demise”
“his cat is okay, will almost certainly lead” – > “his cat is okay, but will almost certainly lead”
“sharp oblivious eyes” Contradictory. “sharp but indifferent eyes”
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JaneLloyd reviewed Version 1 -
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I was never sure if my hunger would dissipate instantly if my nose were to smell the vapors blowing harshly through the canteen extractor.
This sentence seems a little awkward to me.
“I hope its not macaroni cheese,” I said, talking to myself.
“I hate macaroni cheese”. I rolled the word macaroni around my mouth over and over.
I’d combine these two into one line rather than two separate lines.
It was easier to cut across, than walk around, although it was forbidden.
Remove the first comma
Andy, care if I join you? I heard behind me.
Missing the quotation marks
everything because I have imaged it so.
*imagined?
The city sits upon a shore, like an English shore, but its buildings are more solid,
This feels wrong to me, you have sits and are conflicting with each other
I like that you wrap up the entire story within this succinctly. I’m not sure it’s exactly my type of story but I do think that you did a good job with it. Pay a little more attention to your commas and some of your sentence structures, they can be reworded a little to be stronger. A little fixing and it’ll be great!
Vato reviewed Version 1 -
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Good work here. I enjoy the melancholy feel… not much I’d change. Here’s all I could find to suggest:
Andy, care if I join you? I heard behind me. – is the lack of quotation marks in the dialogue on purpose?
frame and broad shoulders without a crease. – the structure of the phrasing here suggest his shoulders are with crease, but you meant the jacket, right? If you meant that the jacket was unaffected by his body, because he wore so well, you should try to clarify that thought. Either way this sentence could use your attention to detail.
Come on, I said, dropping my cigarette butt, get us something strong. Again – lack of quotation marks… Purposeful??
There were many fragments. My mind wondered far; too far. – Here’s I thought I most enjoyed. The first sentence is in itself a fragment – which if done on purpose to be metaphorically symbolic of the sentence I applaud it’s use. I wonder perhaps if the sentences were combined if it wouldn’t add to the stark quality, the emotional turbulence of the ideas completion.
good job.
~vato
FrakKevin reviewed Version 1 -
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God you’re good at writing in first person (i think it’s first person), but you’re good at. I dont know, but your description of the Cambridge lifestyle gave me a clear idea of how the campus was and the students. I liked the used the word bubble to represent how separated from the real world the students were. You just have a really good vocabulary or thesaurus, because I didn’t see a lot of repeat words in this story to express your character emotions..overall I liked this..it was very chilled.
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