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Motion in a Minute



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Mon Dec 26, 2011 9:18 am
AelitaLienne says...



Emma was a particularly close friend of mine... actually, maybe that's incorrect. I didn't know her very well at all, but it seemed as if I would always seek out her company over anyone else's. I did not know very many people here. Nobody likes to be alone but I never tried to become anything more than an acquaintance with the people who inhabited my blurry dreamscape of a world. I suppose I was being foresighted, never allowing disappointment even the barest of thresholds. But Emma, she was different. She offered me catalytic comfort and I'd spend many nights with her, walking around San Francisco in our knock-off heels while smoking, talking, laughing, and sometimes just reading the same meretricious advert and challenging each other to make as many four letter words out of the cloying catch-phrases. She frightened me a bit, but it was an exotic and exciting breed of fear that kept me continuously chasing after it. She was beautiful in an untouchable way, a poisoned apple that's dripping red skin suggested both a delicious interior but a sinister kick that would ruin you if you allowed yourself even the smallest of tastes. We talked about everything, nothing that mattered you understand, just things we always wondered about.

"What happens when you fall while dreaming?" I would ask Emma, taking a sip of my sloppily spiked Coke that was dripping down the sides and catching the light of the midnight neon.

"You could wake up." She took the Coke out of my hands and took a deep sip." You could fall to your death. " She answered distantly as she threw the empty can into the street, reflecting the mist that rose out of the manholes in the depths of her dark eyes. "You could fly." She looked at me, relishing the thought as she rose clumsily from the bus stop bench, straightening the besequined cocktail dress that hung awkwardly from her skinny shoulders. "What do you think Rachelle? Should we fly or will we fall?" She laughed. It sounded like she was crying though, emotion bubbling forth with such staggering energy that made me want to kiss her.

Did I love her? It didn't matter to me that she was a woman. She whistled when she was sad, she could look so alive even while doing the most mundane of tasks. The other day I helped her clean out her apartment, a chasmic hole in Chinatown that held more strange, perplexing and glamourous things than I had ever seen. Even my trip to Jakarta the year before paled in comparison to what she had accumulated here.

"Look at this old thing," she sighed, holding up a lonely looking, but no less exquisite, chopstick I had just uncovered from behind her gas stove. Its gilded pattern was fading away in the ancient jade. She suddenly burst into tears but as I tried to calm her, she pulled back. Usually when confronted with someone who is crying, one would expect the noble thing to do would be to comfort her. However, when that person is trying hard to hide their tears...is the noble thing to do is to pretend not to notice them? I looked away; such emotion was beyond my comprehension. She met my eyes and smiled, tears cascading down her cheeks. "Don't worry about me, something was caught in my eyes." She carefully wiped her heavily powdered lids with a tissue. Indeed something was caught in her eyes, I saw myself in them. I looked lonelier than ever before, but somehow I looked happier as well. Emma carefully twisted the lone chopstick into her hair and admired herself in a dusty mirror. She turned to me for approval.

"You look pretty." I said slowly, wanting nothing more than for her to hold my gaze for 10,000 years. She laughed, dismissing my compliment easily.

"Take it Rachelle, what am I supposed to do with it?" She grinned and slipped me the meaningless stick as carefully as if it were her heart.

It was unfortunate, that year, when Emma left San Francisco to "experience the world." Those were her very words. The day at the airport, as she leapt out of my red Sedan, she looked more distant than ever. She begged me to walk her to the terminal, her ebullient joy was so vivaciously channelled that I was afraid she would break her ankle as she almost charged into the airport in her scarlet espadrilles. She was talking, saying so many things that all I heard was noise. She would laugh if she heard me say that.

"All anyone hears is noise!" She'd smile, kicking her long legs up onto the ripped seats of one of those red trolleys running up and down my city.

I watched her from a spectators seat, hanging back into the crowd of those leaving and those left behind. The last image I saw of her was her turning her head around, swinging her radiant black hair in the air, looking for me in the maelstrom of people. She blew me a kiss and shouted out a good-bye of some kind. Then she was gone, leaving nothing but heavy, disconsolate silence in my entire being.
Sometimes all there is left to do is to dream.
~Murakami
  





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Sun Jan 01, 2012 12:54 am
hockeyfan87 says...



Well hey there! I'm HockeyFan87 and I'm here to review your story!(: I am no expert so don't take anything I say to heart. If I offend you by anything I apologize. Since it is so long I am going to quote some stuff and then put my overall opinion at the bottom in a different color!(:

Emma was a particularly close friend of mine... actually, maybe that's incorrect. I didn't know her very well at all, but it seemed as if I would always seek out her company over anyone else's.
Nothing wrong with this, just felt the need to compliment you on your hook. It was amazing(:
I did not know very many people here.
either I did not know many people there or I do not know many people here. see the difference?

OHMYGOD. Okay, so that was honestly one of the best things I have read on here. I could picture everything going on and the descriptions. Ahh! PM me when you post more of anything(:
when you grow up you realize that Prince Charming is not as easy to find as you thought. You realize the bad guy is not wearing a black cape and he's not easy to spot; he's really funny, and he makes you laugh, and he has perfect hair and isnt wearing a black cape and easy to spot Lots of Love Jenn
  





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Tue Jan 03, 2012 10:02 pm
Blues says...



Hey there!
I'm so sorry this took a while. I've had a lot of review requests so I've just managed to get to this! :) I hope you had a good New Year's. Let's get started!

So. My first impressions: This is pretty interesting. Is it some kind of thing where it's about remembering Emma? I like it.

So, here, I like your imagery. You used some great imagery here:

a poisoned apple that's dripping red skin suggested both a delicious interior but a sinister kick


...and that's what made this piece great :]

Two minor things here:
"Take it, Rachelle, what am I supposed to do with it?"


There should be a comma there, because it's before a name. Also, I think that after Rachelle, a dash or a semi-colon would work better, but it works as a comma. That's just my opinion.

You look pretty.," I said slowly,


There, it should be a comma. It's the end of the dialogue, but the whole sentence hasn't ended yet.

Just those two nitpicks :) This piece was pretty well written, so not many issues here. But the main issue for me is that towards the end, apart from the silence, not much emotion was described. I can't recall something like this happening to me (for a. I'm not in that sort of love with my family and b. My family wouldn't leave me XD), so I'd really like a couple of words to describe how it felt.

But not much really! This is pretty good, and I like the idea. So well done, Aelita! :)

Keep Writing!


-Mac
  





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Tue Jan 10, 2012 1:00 pm
Lavvie says...



Hi there AelitaLienne!

I think this is definitely a different kind of romantic short story. I'm not sure if I liked it much as a story, however you wrote it well and that's what counts. Nevertheless, there were a few things I'd like to touch on.

Most of your descriptions were precise, imaginative and allowed for imagery. However, sometimes, they became a little unclear in their meaning - perhaps it got a bit convoluted. I found myself second-guessing some things. For example:

I would ask Emma, taking a sip of my sloppily spiked Coke that was dripping down the sides and catching the light of the midnight neon.


What do you exactly mean by 'the midnight neon'? It's catching the midnight neon of what, really? You must be clear. At the moment, the sentence feels oddly incomplete though in English, it is deemed, technically, a full sentence. But I just don't get that feeling; the sentence is lacking in your original idea for it.

Also, I know I'm moving backwards, but eh:

She frightened me a bit, but it was an exotic and exciting breed of fear that kept me continuously chasing after it.


There are two things I want discuss here. One being about the two tiny words I bolded and the other being about this fear. So first: frightened only a bit? I think that really plays down everything way too much until its almost redundant and unimportant. I suggest you substitute 'a bit' for something else. And second: why exactly does she fear Emma? What is it about her? Is it an average "Ahhh! Scary monster!" type of fear or is it a fear of what emotions Emma instills within her (Rachelle)? I am rather curious about what you mean since it can completely affect the rest of the atmosphere of the short story.

It was unfortunate, that year, when Emma left San Francisco to "experience the world." Those were her very words.


I can't understand the importance of placing the three words in quotations ("experience the world") and so the second sentence following is redundant. It would do without the quotations and everything. However, if you do insist upon keeping the quotations, ask yourself this: what is the point? Why does keeping these three usually average words in quotations? It's your decision, but in a more literary sense, it is silly.

And as for what AhmadBlues nagged you about, I'm going to add on to his correction:

"Take it Rachelle, what am I supposed to do with it?"


First, you do know it's the comma between 'it' and 'Rachelle'. Second, though, this is a comma splice within dialogue. Keep it simple and replace the comma between 'Rachelle' and 'what' with either a period or, as a suggestion, a conjunction like the word 'but'.

Overall, this is very creative, but probably not my favourite personally. However, the prose was well-done. If you have any questions about this review, please don't hesitate to shoot me a PM.

Yours,
Lavvie


What is to give light must endure burning. – Viktor Frankl
  








"Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?"
— Albus Dumbledore