Thansk for the review, i’m glad you enjoyed this. The ‘i guess every one has to learn for themselves’ is indeed a thought…
Short Story / Dance of Greed
You rest against the wall, your wings at easy, providing a nice cushion for the millennia of your patient waiting. Your legs begin to tremble now, not with exhaustion but with excitement for what you are seeing with your angelic eyes brings joy to your heart yet again. Another few centuries of watching Her dance with one of your luckier peers are about to come to an end. Another opportunity for you arises as you begin to hold your breath.
You can remember clearly how the cycle goes, how it begins and how it ends. One angel get picked to join Her waltzing and slowly Her enchanting dance overwhelms his mind and his is just another toy in Her great tango. Mesmerized by the swift movements of Her great body almost levitating above the floor, years tick by and finally the dance comes to an end. Bored of Her latest tool, She allows him to fulfil his purpose and give Her all his accumulated energy.
Now that the latest toy falls to the floor, his wings dispersing around, every feather quickly fading away as if the dance floor was swallowing them. After a day he stands up, his eyes burning with only the desire for revenge and bloodlust. His wings no longer present, he gives out such an outburst of pain you cannot help but shiver underneath the high pitched cry. And just like that he is gone, disappearing in the flames joining the fate of many others before him.
Once again you start trembling with excitement and joy, giving birth to a nervous smile on your face. This is your chance yet again. She’ll be picking her partner soon, and Her finger might choose you. Just the thought of it creates such a sensation that it sends shivers up your spine as you remember the centuries of waiting just for this thrill.
You are fully aware that if you are to join her majestic moves around the room, the much anticipated hope, you will meet your end just like everyone before you- in the never-ending flames of hell. Yet it seems so unimportant at this instant. Right now you can only observe Her walking towards the line of angels and you are sure everyone feels exactly the same. If you will be with her, if only for a few months, all the millennia of waiting, of jealous observing, will be worth it even if yours will be the fate of a fallen angel forever bound to pain and despair in hell.
Now she stands up and looks at the line of her potential dancing partners. She starts walking up and down, as if trying to make you even more nervous and is succeeding at that. Finally she halts and stands still in front of the line yet again. Sweat starts pouring down your face, your wings no longer resting at ease but widespread with tension of the decision. If only she would pick you, if only her eyes desired you.
She holds up her arm and points a finger on a angel in the line. The disappointment of the moment instantly springs into your mind and is working well to bring you down, up until the point when you realize that you are the lucky angel she desires.
Your wings outspread even higher, you fly out of the line siding with her, taking her hand. This is your moment, your while, and for the rest of your angelic life only she exists. Even as soon as now she has you under her spell, her smile turning the white feathers on your wings red.
Now you dance, a nice slow swing, the dance of the angels- your favourite one. She levitates around you, only the tips of her feet touching the floor, you hold her gentle hand tightly in yours. As you touch her side you start to feel every droplet of the blood within your system and you dance with her, one round, two rounds, three rounds…the never-ending cycle. Your cycle. Her body always close to yours, her hair in your face, her smell for which you would die.
This goes on for months, but to you time doesn’t exist anymore. Your eyes can only register Her movement and her gentle whispering, praising you and letting you now Her greatly She cares for you, how She feels the exact same way as you do and never wants to let go. And you feel the same way, as if you could not exist without Her…no, no you can’t!
Now She halts and looks you straight into your eyes, Her smile beating every majestic wonder you have ever seen. The sensation of this while, the memory which will never die, overwhelms you and you give in. She leans forward and doesn’t have to do anything else. Your lips are there to meet Hers as they touch, opening your mouth as your tongue slips by to be exchanged with Hers. You grab Her even closer to yourself, not wanting to allow Her to go away now. The world starts spinning as you massage Her tongue with your own, additionally doing the same with your lips. And the world still spins, just like it is supposed to. The sheer excitement of moment can never be forgotten.
Lost in the pleasure you quickly find your strength drifting away, your energy fading. Your wing are heavy now as if covered in molten resin, making you lower them almost to the deadly dance floor. You let Her go, but she still clings onto you, never willing to allow Her toy to get away. Your lips are still bound together and you only await the final atoms of your energy to be taken await from you with your eyes tightly shut.
It’s never too late…
As your hear the voice your eyes quickly open and you look at Her. You can see She is enjoying every moment of this, even more than the dance itself. This is why She picked you, not a partner but merely a servant, a tool. The voice still rings inside your mind and the words echo thousand times before you realize what to do.
Summing the last bits of you strength you raise your hands and wings, knowing that this is your only chance to get away. All your despair is pressed in your muscles as you try to push Her away, your wings trying break free and elevate you away from your fate.
But all your efforts are proving to be futile. The rosin is still blocking your wings and Her arms are much stronger than yours, powered by the millennia of energy sucking and you look into Her eyes for the final time. Her dark brown eyes now burn with triumph and She smiles as you finally realize this is the end of your existence, your efforts, your magical swing.
And so your wings drop and you can feel the burning desire of the dance floor that slowly vanishes your hopes, your love and your angelic life. As your feathers fly away from you, you no longer feel anything. All your emotions drift away as you take one last look at the line of angels, their wings tight with tension as they cheer you on your way to hell. Your descent only means their victory.
Finally filled with the only emotion you can feel, you shout a warning to your companions, warning them not to follow your example. But their eyes and ears no longer care to notice you, their mind is only focused on the Creation of Hell, who wishes to abuse yet another one of them.
Knowing its your time to leave, you look up towards the sky but with no wings there’s only one way to leave the dance floor…
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hellbunny reviewed Version 1 -
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You have wonderful imagery in this piece. Having experienced the addictive side of love and lust, I can relate to the sentiment of not caring if my soul is banished to hell as long as I can hold him (or her, as in this story) for one minute longer. Make it more passionate. Talk about the warm glow of heath fires that smolder beneath his skin when he touches her or something else along those lines to really make the readers feel the intensity of his emotions.
The ending was weak. There should have been more of a stark awakening of what he’s allowed. As it stands, it sounds like he used her as much as she used him, and now that he’s done with her, he gets to save his own soul.
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ShiriHatcher reviewed Version 1 -
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It was interesting and highly reached the 1st goal which was to show alternate ways of viewing the world around us. It really did. This writing had a certain feel around it like it was drawing the reader into the story other good writers would do with their stories. I liked it. But still there was just something about the end:
‘Triumphal, you stand in front of her, her eyes hating you even more with every second that passes by. A beam of light swallows the dirt dance floor as the roof above moves away and lets it in. You look back at the angels lined against the wall and outstretch your wings. They just stare at you dumbly, as if not accepting what is happening around them. I guess every one has to learn for themselves, you sight and without looking back to see her, you fly off into the sky awaiting the hospitality of the One who was willing to help you.’
I wasn’t sure if the ” I guess every one has to learn for themselves” part was a thought in the story. That was the only thing unclear to me. Other than that good job.
purseonwheels reviewed Version 1 -
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Firstly, I would say that you wait way to long to illustrate the fact that you are describing an angel – I had no idea whether you were talking about bugs, birds or some other manner of animal with wings. If it’s angels we’re talking about, I would make that clear in the first sentence or two otherwise it’s very confusing.
Other than that, I get what you’re saying. There are some wonderful images and sentiments here. I think that every person on earth can sympathize with the pangs and pains of the many cycles of love. But I think that some of your images and some of your phrasing reaches way beyond the scope of what you know and it seems puffed up and inflated far beyond it’s core and that causes it to smell of melodrama. I don’t think that’s what you’re aiming for. I think if you want to keep this angel metaphor, the first thing that you need to do is drop all the lofty phrasing and boil this baby down to include your raw, human emotion. What our character is going through is nitty-gritty and bone crushing – even rending himself free of the spell of this siren is hugely life-changing and you have denied your reader the opportunity to experience the emotions of our character – instead we have to guess at what he’s feeling and for everything else, we’re forced to bring our own emotions to fill in the gap. don’t be afraid to get your pen dirty. Write down to the bones of what’s happening and let your readers experience every gut churning glance, every heart wrending touch. You’ve got a good “background” here – now it’s time to paint in the details. Good luck! =0)
LadyMactans reviewed Version 1 -
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Do I sense some not-so-subtle religious undertones?
This was well written, for the most part, though it could use some editing. You have some grammar issues and some awkward phrases so I suggest going back and doing a couple thorough read-throughs. There are some very cool images here, though and you definitely have a good story. The use of the second person works well here, too and that’s not usually an easy thing to accomplish. However, I have to admit the ending was a little disappointing. I appreciate what you’re trying to do but it’s very hard to believe that this one character would be able to break free so easily when none of the others were able to. If you are going to keep the triumphant ending (which seems to be your intention so I’ll assume you are) then there needs to be more than just a disembodied voice helping him escape. Or, if it is just a voice, there needs to be more of an explanation for that. Why did the voice choose him? Why did he respond so well when the others didn’t? What does this character possess that the others didn’t? Etc.
dogfish reviewed Version 1 -
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Early on I thought it might be a dance of the Black Widow spider, but no wings there. Is there a bird with such traits as the spider? I know of none. At last I surmised this was a dance of angels, perhaps she was a fallen angel seeking to attract and incorporate males into fallen status: “a fallen angel forever bound to pain and despair in hell.”
You have written an allegory apparently, but I cannot identify the referent. Could it be the Salvation of God? I should like more clues if that is so. Otherwise this appears to be an independent fantasy, but one that shows alternate ways of viewing the world around us.
You have a very active imagination and good ability to put it into words. Help your audience to understand a little better and you should do well.
Dogfish
beanofdoom reviewed Version 1 -
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its well written and interesting.
my only criticsm is that i never really understond the significAnce of what was going on and originally took it to be a metaphor for life. this was supported by the fact that the main character is the reader.
the piece feels like a small part of a greater work only because there are so many unanswered questions: when did this dance begin? what is the point of of it? who is she? why is it so good as to endure the flames of hell? But, at the same time perhaps posing these questions is the goal, i don’t know.
the main character (me) is a little flat. I found it somewhat dificult to relate to what was going on. and while it being me is an approriate device if the point is the life metaphor I still couldn’t help but find it a little distracting. As far as a story goes the hero could use a bit more depth: shift the focus from the reader, put in some flashbacks, some personal memories. rather than force me in to the narrative you could invite me in; make the main charcter engaging. if i can relate to him it might have an even greater impact.
did i like it, though? generally yeah. i kept reading it, it held my interest; i kept trying to figure it out. I was a little frustrated though when i found no answers at the end.
Also like life?
NormaLizeth reviewed Version 1 -
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At first it was a little difficult to find how the story was placed. If it was your intension for the reader to settle the plot at they read on then you did a great job. I really liked it though I would like to know how he go there and who was she, truly.
zachd reviewed Version 1 -
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Well done. I liked the premise, I almost always enjoy stories of the supernatural, i.e. angels, demons, vampires, etc. etc. This one was no exception. It was a good read. At first, i thought “She” was God, but as I read on I thought She was more likely temptation aka the Devil. At one point i even thought She might be both, like some sort of test that Lucifer and God created to test an angels’ worth. But of course the end revealed that She was indeed the Devil. The point of all this is that you stimulated my mind, which is always good. You made me think and in this world we need to do everything we can to make people think. Not just about religion or the hereafter, but about everything, the world in general.
On the downside: The puncuation is something that can def be worked on. Editing is a huge part of writing…unfortunately. You’re a bit wordy in places, but in time you’ll learn how to cut down on unnessasary prose.
For such a young writer, it was excellent. For a writer period, it was good. Keep working and studying and you can def go places. Good luck.
PrincesswriterC reviewed Version 1 -
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providing the cushion you need too well after all this waiting (Smoother if you put “cushion you need all too well after this waiting”.)
Another one of your peers was offered a chance to join her waltzing, her majestic moves around the room overwhelming his mind and soon he too is just another toy of her great tango. (Should read: Another one of your peers was offered a chance to join her waltzing; her majestic moves around the room overwhelming his mind, and soon he too is just another toy of her great tango.)
Months tick by without you noticing and more and more you are becoming addicted to her, as if nothing in the world besides her exists. (Should read: Months tick by without you noticing that increasingly you are becoming addicted to her, as if nothing in the world besides her exists.)
As your hear the voice your eyes quickly open and you look at her. (Should read: As you hear the voice, your eyes quickly open and you look at her.)
I guess every one has to learn for themselves, you sight and without looking back to see her, you fly off into the sky awaiting the hospitality of the One who was willing to help you. (These shoudl be 3 seperate sentences)
I liked this story of triumph over desire. It was a romatic and poetical way to do so.
Smile,
Princess
VoidSucker reviewed Version 1 -
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Second person stories are rare and almost never work. It is an odd way of telling a story and is neither personal like first person nor flexible like the third. I’d recommend you rewrite the story in both first and third and see which you prefer.
Your story is okay but it lacks punch. It’s not gripping nor is it amusing. Also, your language is rather bland, but that I can forgive if you are 16.
But the best stories start with something dramatic and tell a dramatic story and they do so dramatically. Try thinking of alternate words: instead of ‘you look back at the angels’ why not stare? or gaze? or peer? or peek? Or describe the emotion of looking at them. Does it make you feel happy? Sad? Angry? And HOW sad? HOW angry? etc.
‘The black molten resin falls’ is a decent line but expand upon it – how does it fall? Like blobs? Like a river? Like hot tar? Be more descriptive and use imagery, simile, metaphor etc. If you do not know what these terms are look them up.
I guess I’m being over critical because this is a good effort for a 16 year old. But the only way you improve is to take criticism and learn from it and try again and again and again. There is no perfect story teller but you can at least strive to be one.
Well done and keep going!
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