The tall, expressionless man that always sleeps against the vine covered brick wall in front of the cemetery decides to go to the beach today. He settles himself at the end of a long weathered dock. Haze hovers lazily over the water and the early morning air smells of rotting fish and sea salt. It is grey and overcast, the spectrum of color limited to that of an old faded photograph that has been over handled and has lost the picture of vivacity it once had. The tall man had come here hoping that the scene would inspire some semblance of feeling but instead it has formed an image, a landscape parallel to his mind. The padding of tiny barefooted steps, quick in succession, approach him from behind. A small red headed girl sits down beside him, a figure glowing fiercely against the drab, grey colors of the sky and water. Her nose and cheeks an explosion of scattered freckles and her eyes amber brown. A red tendril of hair blows across her face. She pushes it impatiently aside and gives him a disarming, and slightly toothless, grin. In her lap is a miniature sail boat. She asks, “Have you ever been sailing?” The man shakes his head no. The little girl reaches into her mass of curls and unpins a tiny flower beret. She then reaches into the pocket of the man’s coat and fishes out a cigarette and places both the beret and cigarette onto the boat. “Something of yours and something of mine. Now we can go sailing together,” she says smiling proudly at him. She hands him the small wooden boat, and he gazes down at this foreign object, momentarily puzzled as to what she expects him to do with it. Then the tall man carefully lowers it to the water and with a flick of his wrist sets it sailing. As he stands rigidly on the dock, he closes his eyes and imagines himself on that boat sailing away. He feels the breeze and the steady rock of the boat as it glides smoothly over the surface of the murky water. He realizes that he is feeling something. A reprieve from the ever present numbness and indifference he experiences every minute of every day. He finally finds how he is supposed to feel. He hears the soft twinkle of laughter. Laughter. He tilts his head back and lets the air flow through his flared nostrils. Splash. He sees her tiny arms flailing and breaking the surface of the water. Her red hair is matted against her forehead. He reaches for her
He reached for her. He was sure he did. The dock was too high. He looked down at her struggling form. He gazed out at the slowly disappearing boat, enveloped in the fog. Then he turned and walked quickly down the dock, across the beach, and away. Far away from his thoughts and detaching himself once again from emotion, until the twinkling of laughter disappeared and became obsolete, like a ship carrying empty passengers.
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very well done for the style that you’ve chosen. it is minimal in length and information, but the feeling and scene is conveyed clearly and efficiently, not an easy task when dealing with so few words. you do need some paragraph breaks though, even if the piece is brief. then only real hiccups that i saw inn the writing were the lines where she had a “slightly toothless, grin” and whre she fishes ot the cigarette. first just think about what your saying- how can you be “slightly” and “toothless”?one word means “a little bit” and the other means “completely without teeth”, and the two do more clashing than mixing when read together (in my humble opinion, mind you). second, cigarettes come in packs and i dont think i’ve ever met a person who carries loose ones around in their pocket, because they are fragile. so how did this kid reach in and fish out a single cigarette? very very nimble fingers i suppose? even then, that part is still a bit ackward that she would just stroll up and reach into someones pocket- thats a very VERY brash move, even for a naiver little girl. kids often talk to strangers, wave,or strike up random conversations, but id bet its one in a million or so that will reach into your pocket. and besides, it might open up the chance for a little dialouge if the little girl asked him for something of his, instead of jsust taking it. food for thought. anyway, on the whole good stuff. it was brief, well put together, and kept my interest. not only that but the ending was dark and not at all dissapointing. well done.
vine covered…..over handled --- these need hyphenating
I like the last line although having read it a couple more times I’m not sure about it, I still like it but maybe it could be worded slightly differently?
I’m not sure why you think this gets worse the more you read it – I enjoyed it a lot.
Move forward, not backwards (is this the opposite you talk about in your notes?!)
This is a very accomplished start if this really is your very first attempt at a short story. I feel you have taken time constructing each line and working the story into the shape it’s in now. With so few words you give the reader a very clear picture of this man, his numbness that seems to flick off then on again like a light switch. It’s an eerie story, and a very good one.
Just keep writing. If you are unhappy with something as good as this then it can only be a good thing as it means you’ll write much better and I for one would be happy to read them.
I really enjoyed your use of imagery and your descriptive language. That being said, I felt as if you lost me toward the end of the story. I wasn’t really sure what was happening toward the end. Was the young girl drowning? Did he just leave her? I feel that your ending needs some work.
Also, I wasn’t a big fun of the twinkling laughter. How does he hear a twinkle?
Other than that, your imagery was good I could really place myself in the protagonist’s situation.
So did he just let her die..or am I missing the point. I like the first paragraph and the ending but the little that happened between left me confuse. Like I missed the over message. Grammar wise I didn’t spot anything.
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