An Elwick Tragedy

If there was a divine force that could stop the monotonous cracking of my knuckles to the tick of a metronome that has been set up counting the seconds to your arrival, it would have intervened by now.

That is why I no longer believe in God.

Between the popping, my fingers reach out towards the blinds covering the window that cascades over my left. I latch on, pull back, peek out. You’re not there.

I hate other people. And I hate that you’re gone now. I hate that I sit around pining for your touch while you are elsewhere, fraternizing and laughing.

I hate that I assume the worst.

My fingernails are not feminine anymore. I tried to dress them up with glorious coats of polish- bright swirls of distracting pastels, brilliant to the eye- but the truth was that when I perilously gnawed the ends bit by bit, the stunning shades of crimson flaked and ripped until I was left with only the sticky shattered base.

And so I stare.

I don’t know why I am no longer in control, and honestly I don’t believe there is a scarier sensation on this human earth.

“Try me,” I speak aloud. But you’re not around so my voice makes no sound.

For some reason repetition is helping me latch on to the last bit of sanity I feel I have left. Crack one, look two, bite three, crack four. Tick, tick, tick, tick. There is nothing like an onomatopoeia to make a girl wait longer for your voice.

Tell me I’m doing just fine.

Holy moly - you've really got something going here, haven't you?

There was a lot of wit and humour in this, and snappy lines that made it a delight to read. And the age-old experience of waiting for someone - well, you captured that nicely.

If there was a divine force that could stop the monotonous cracking of my knuckles to the tick of a metronome that has been set up counting the seconds to your arrival, it would have intervened by now.

Really, I SHOULD be telling you to condense this line down a bit - it seems like an eyeful with so many little idea crammed into it - but...I don't know. I'm kind of attached to it. You're going to need someone a lot more forceful than me to get you to shorten this; for some reason, I think the fact that you make us read it twice creates an interesting effect.

That is why I no longer believe in God.

WIN. I loved the way this line was spaced out from the rest, how it had that immediate impact, seeming to give away everything while giving away nothing - in fact, it just raised more questions. And it's interesting you say that the narrator does not believe in God anymore because they're so frustrated by waiting. Okay, so that's a clear exaggeration, but the way you say it doesn't seem pretentious or melodramatic at all here - it works.

Between the popping, my fingers reach out towards the blinds covering the window that cascades over my left. I latch on, pull back, peek out. You’re not there.

The 'between the popping' and 'peek out' parts made this cute. And the obviously head-shaking line 'You're not there' was perfect too - no overwriting, just a nice, simple phrase to give us.

I hate other people. And I hate that you’re gone now. I hate that I sit around pining for your touch while you are elsewhere, fraternizing and laughing.

Urgh. This part got too melodramatic - 'I hate' being the key phrase here that annoyed me. It lost its subtlety, intelligence and cuteness here, and sounded more like a series of ramblings.

I hate that I assume the worst.

But this was another WIN .

My fingernails are not feminine anymore. I tried to dress them up with glorious coats of polish- bright swirls of distracting pastels, brilliant to the eye- but the truth was that when I perilously gnawed the ends bit by bit, the stunning shades of crimson flaked and ripped until I was left with only the sticky shattered base.

I love how you swtich the focus from the missing person (outside) to the fingernails here(inside). And the fact that the fingernails are yet another symbol of impatience. The descriptions here make it lively and vivid - true, I did sort of skimm over them first time round, but that's probably due to good flow than anything else. I got what you were saying.

And so I stare.

I don’t know why I am no longer in control, and honestly I don’t believe there is a scarier sensation on this human earth.

“Try me,” I speak aloud. But you’re not around so my voice makes no sound.

The one-liners are a tad overused here, and the diction in this above part was a bit awkward. But 'honestly don't believe there is a scarier sensation on this HUMAN earth' was both funny and subtle - it should have been melodramatic, but somehow I didn't find it so.

For some reason repetition is helping me latch on to the last bit of sanity I feel I have left. Crack one, look two, bite three, crack four. Tick, tick, tick, tick. There is nothing like an onomatopoeia to make a girl wait longer for your voice.

Repetition = sanity was a bit ho hum. I liked 'crack one, look two....' but thought 'tick tick tick tick' was juvenile, too nursery-rhymish for an intelligent narrator like this. And I LOVED the last line in that above bit - such style!

Tell me I’m doing just fine.

Well, alright, not bad as far as endings go, and I guess you had to cut it somewhere, right? I liked the hands-on-hips style statement above, a slight command, a slight plea, a hint of sarcasm and quite a dollop of humour.

Anyway, nice piece, and I look forward to reading more of your work! If you have any questions, feel free to PM me.

Wow. This is excellent! You have good mastery of repetition, sentence construction. I also like the sort of introspective interior monologue you've got going on. And unlike Navita, I love those little ramblings going on inside the character's head. Indeed I would have had more of them, and less of the short, generalizing one-liners which in my opinion ruin the piece. I agree with Navita that a one-liner loses impact if used too often. Furthermore, many of your one-liners weren't that great, and all of them have been done before.

Take, for instance "That is why I no longer believe in God." This could so easily have been a extended philosophical musing about the emotions the character is feeling. Or you could have moved it to the end, which would have given the line a whole new relevance that I haven't seen exploited before. Similarly, "And so I stare." Why not repeat it? Why not list boring detail after boring detail, a short limerick the character makes up about cracks in the wall or something. Nothing whimsical, just something that's clearly designed to pass time. The reason why this is important is because on its own, "And so I stare" is meaningless - so what if the character stares. Why should I, the reader care? I know why you want me to care because I'm reading between the lines, but I should get something at a quick glance.

But as you requested I say, your writing is just fine, in the sense of fine silk.