The Artist and The Philosopher

The girl next door called me an artist the first day we moved in.

She sat on the porch at the two story bungalow across the street, twisting a silver diamond ring on her pinkie finger and stared at me with single-minded determination.

So I pretended not to notice.

The drive from Boston was supposed to take eight and half hours. Somehow, we made it in six and didn’t stop once. And now Mom, who couldn’t get over the fact that I’d only driven a quarter of the way, parked the Mercury in the garage and had fallen asleep in the front seat. It was between unpacking by myself or checking out the neighborhood.

I started unpacking, my stuff mainly. I knew I’d get killed for it later when she woke up, but right then all I cared about was finding my skateboard and making a break for it.

Next door, eyes were still on me. As I moved boxes in and out. As I placed item after item to the side.

If she’d realized how much she was creeping me out, I doubt she would’ve stopped. There was too much dedication in her eyes. I noticed it once when I glanced over my shoulder to see if she had gone inside. And there they were. Greenish- grey, cold and steely, like a jade stone.

I couldn’t breathe for a moment until I turned away.

I went inside, thoughts spiraling in my head. There was nowhere to sit and so I leaned against the wall, trying to support myself. I swallowed hard, tried to catch my breath, swiped the sweat on my forehead with the back of my hand. And then the image of her, the girl next door with the jade eyes appeared back in my mind, and suddenly I fell.

Hard.

In love.

"You're an artist," she said that night.

I'd gently moved a strand of auburn hair from her face so she could sense the evening sky just how I saw it. Bright, shining, careless.

"I'm just for you, Rachael " I said. "I'm anything you want me to be."

"It's just like you said. I feel it. Tiny diamond crystals waltzing around the crescent moon, illuminating its world."

She didn't blink, not once the whole time. And I loved her for it. I wanted to show her how much.

"Do it again," she said. "Create another one for me."

"Slow music, R&B," I started. "Entwined in one another, moving gracefully yet swift. Every step involves passion. Compelling. Beginning with a caress on the cheek."

She continued to stare up ahead at the night sky, never blinking. After minutes of silence, she laid down on the grass.

I kissed her tenderly on her left cheek. Then I moved to her lips and nuzzled down her neck.

"Stop," she whispered between cold breaths.

And I obeyed, forcing myself off her.

Tears trickled from both jade eyes.

"I'm sorry, Ray," I said, taking her hand.

She squeezed it tightly. It seemed like forever before she spoke again, but it was only a few minutes.

"You're the saddest place I've ever been," she let out.

She'd never seen me before, didn't know me enough.

"I can feel you Milen," she said, as if reading my mind. "You haven't smiled yet, not since you moved here and not since we've met. I've been thinking about it for a while now. "

I bit my lip, nervous for a reason I couldn't explain. "So I'm the artist and you're the philosopher, huh?"

She smiled weakly. "I only see what I think and I can feel what I see."

Then we both grew quiet. I wondered why I let myself get here, at this park in a new neighborhood with this girl. Why I left Mom at the new house to bear everything alone.

"You were about to run," she said. "When I sensed you across the street, I felt your anger. You needed to get away."

I stood up suddenly. She noticed and did the same.

"Let me walk you home," I said.

She held on tightly to my arm as we left the park. A moment ago I would have stayed there all night and not given it a second thought.

We got back quickly. I walked so fast she could barely keep up. At one point, I just wanted to leave her behind and let her find the way on her own.

"Good night, Milen," she said when I reached the door of her house. She reached out to touch my cheek and to my surprise, she found it instantly.

"Goodnight," I said dryly.

There was love in her eyes. I could see it as she caressed my face. If she could, she would've seen the fury in mine.

"Just knock on the door," she said. "After six like you did today. My parents won't be home."

"Goodbye," was all I said.

I didn't turn around to see if she'd gotten inside safely before jogging across the street back home. Maybe she knew I wasn't coming back. Maybe she didn't. I didn't really give a hell.

This was an interesting story but there are a few things you should change like in the part when you said that he could still feel eyes on him should say that he still felt her eyes on him. Also I felt like there was no development of their relationship, it was just instant which I don't fine realistic. Another thing I really disliked the ending, she saw him as hurt and angry but at the end he came off as a total jerk. I hope my review wasn't to harsh.

Thanks a million times for the review, Sarah. I love how you are honest and don't feed me ear candy.
I appreciate your input and I agree a hundred percent with all of your advice!

Hey, I'm Eddie and I'm going to take a shot at reviewing this for you today.

First of all, wow. You have a very unique and interesting writing style, there is something about it where it just flows so effortlessly. I'm jealous! So well done for that. Something I also liked was how you really gave me the impression of the narrator's 'voice' if that makes sense? As in it stopped being just words on a page, I could really hear his voice in my head.

I honestly can't fault you throughout the first half, every sentence is stunning, every paragraph is so well written.

The girl next door called me an artist the first day we moved in.

Absolutely love this as an opening line, however I'm not sure if it should be 'girl-next-door', but don't quote me on that one!

She sat on the porch at the two story bungalow across the street, twisting a silver diamond ring on her pinkie finger and stared at me with single-minded determination.

So I pretended not to notice.

The drive from Boston was supposed to take eight and half hours. Somehow, we made it in six and didn’t stop once. And now Mom, who couldn’t get over the fact that I’d only driven a quarter of the way, parked the Mercury in the garage and had fallen asleep in the front seat. It was between unpacking by myself or checking out the neighborhood.

I started unpacking, my stuff mainly. I knew I’d get killed for it later when she woke up, but right then all I cared about was finding my skateboard and making a break for it.

Next door, eyes were still on me. As I moved boxes in and out. As I placed item after item to the side.

If she’d realized how much she was creeping me out, I doubt she would’ve stopped. There was too much dedication in her eyes. I noticed it once when I glanced over my shoulder to see if she had gone inside. And there they were. Greenish- grey, cold and steely, like a jade stone.

I love how your character descriptions link up. As some writers tend to write something about a character, which never ever links in later on, as what you say matches up with her trying to analyze him later.

I couldn’t breathe for a moment until I turned away.

Loving the use of short, snappy sentences to break up the text, such an effective technique!

I went inside, thoughts spiraling in my head. There was nowhere to sit and so I leaned against the wall, trying to support myself. I swallowed hard, tried to catch my breath, swiped the sweat on my forehead with the back of my hand. And then the image of her, the girl next door with the jade eyes appeared back in my mind, and suddenly I fell.

Hard.

In love.

Can't falter the first half, although there is something about these two lines which I can't get my head around. Perhaps 'Hard, in love.' would be better, although I don't want to tell you how to write!

"You're an artist," she said that night.

Again I love the short snappy sentences, and how this links in with the beginning. It's always nice to see the 'full circle effect'.

I'd gently moved a strand of auburn hair from her face so she could sense the evening sky just how I saw it. Bright, shining, careless.

"I'm just for you, Rachael " I said. "I'm anything you want me to be."

"It's just like you said. I feel it. Tiny diamond crystals waltzing around the crescent moon, illuminating its world."

She didn't blink, not once the whole time. And I loved her for it. I wanted to show her how much.

"Do it again," she said. "Create another one for me."

"Slow music, R&B," I started. "Entwined in one another, moving gracefully yet swift. Every step involves passion. Compelling. Beginning with a caress on the cheek."

She continued to stare up ahead at the night sky, never blinking. After minutes of silence, she laid down on the grass.

I kissed her tenderly on her left cheek. Then I moved to her lips and nuzzled down her neck.

"Stop," she whispered between cold breaths.

And I obeyed, forcing myself off her.

Tears trickled from both jade eyes.

"I'm sorry, Ray," I said, taking her hand.

She squeezed it tightly. It seemed like forever before she spoke again, but it was only a few minutes.

This is where I'm afraid I have to agree with Sarah Pass, although I love the idea of two complete strangers falling hopelessly in love, everything is happening a little too fast. Slow it down, really drag out the details. Make every touch a shy one, if you'd like.

"You're the saddest place I've ever been," she let out.

This is a beautiful line. Although I can't quite get to grips with the grammar, maybe 'You're the saddest place I've ever been too.' or 'You're in the saddest place.'? I don't know, maybe I'm wrong, play with it.

She'd never seen me before, didn't know me enough.

"I can feel you Milen," she said, as if reading my mind. "You haven't smiled yet, not since you moved here and not since we've met. I've been thinking about it for a while now. "

I bit my lip, nervous for a reason I couldn't explain. "So I'm the artist and you're the philosopher, huh?"

She smiled weakly. "I only see what I think and I can feel what I see."

Then we both grew quiet. I wondered why I let myself get here, at this park in a new neighborhood with this girl. Why I left Mom at the new house to bear everything alone.

"You were about to run," she said. "When I sensed you across the street, I felt your anger. You needed to get away."

I stood up suddenly. She noticed and did the same.

"Let me walk you home," I said.

She held on tightly to my arm as we left the park. A moment ago I would have stayed there all night and not given it a second thought.

We got back quickly. I walked so fast she could barely keep up. At one point, I just wanted to leave her behind and let her find the way on her own.

"Good night, Milen," she said when I reached the door of her house. She reached out to touch my cheek and to my surprise, she found it instantly.

"Goodnight," I said dryly.

There was love in her eyes. I could see it as she caressed my face. If she could, she would've seen the fury in mine.

The only nitpick is this line, although its good. I'd like it to be dragged out slightly, something poetic about the 'warm dewy look in her eyes' and thats a really, really bad example and complete fluff, but write something heart warming maybe.

"Just knock on the door," she said. "After six like you did today. My parents won't be home."

"Goodbye," was all I said.

I didn't turn around to see if she'd gotten inside safely before jogging across the street back home. Maybe she knew I wasn't coming back. Maybe she didn't. I didn't really give a hell.

This is such an interesting story, and unlike anything I've ever encountered before. So I'm really looking forward to how this develops. Good job, I hope I didn't sound like I was being too nice the whole time. When I really enjoy something I find it hard to give constructive feedback, as theres usually not much I want to change. Hope this helped!

xo

Hi there!

I said I was going to come back and review this, and I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to get back. I like your story, it's cute and it's simple and I think both of those things go into a good romance story.

There are some comments I'd like to make about this, though. Basically: Why? Why are we seeing this little snippet of this couple learning who the other is? It's cute, yes, but it's also a little unbelievable in some ways. I want to believe it and say that's how it should be, it's perfect but it isn't. Why does she notice him, why does she insist on knowing him? Normally I'd be like "This doesn't need useless details" but instead, I'm left wanting more from this. I think this is because we get the scene when they're together on the grass and that needs more for me than what you give.

It's content where you lose out here. It should be longer, somehow, or shorter. You've ended it at an awkward length where there's too much to run away with and not enough to settle into. I'd suggest a little more of the middle in this one, give us some more of her character and his and tell us what they're like. Mostly I want to know why he'll never see her again, as it seems to suggest in the end, that he won't look to her again. Why not? Nothing here indicates that kind of intimacy or that lack of compassion on his part. Does he only see it as a fleeting image of what can't be? If so, why? There are a lot of questions I have regarding this but the most important could be said to be the last one. Why does it have to end? You don't need to tell us directly, maybe just show them walking further apart the closer they get, or have her take her hand away from his without cause. I need to see the cracks before the break.

This disregarded, I rather like this. I think it's done well and you show us a lovely picture of the two individuals, however incomplete.

*Hearts* Le Penguin.

Hi, here I am... like I promised. This story is really original, I liked it, but I think it's more romance then anything. By the way that's a great title.

She sat on the porch at the two story bungalow across the street, twisting a silver diamond ring on her pinkie finger and stared at me with single-minded determination.

So I pretended not to notice.

I would've write this together...
She sat on the porch at the two story bungalow across the street, twisting a silver diamond ring on her pinkie finger and stared at me with single-minded determination. So I pretended not to notice.
...but that's my opinion, you don't have to do it.

If she’d realized how much she was creeping me out, I doubt she would’ve stopped.

LOL! This girl would've creep me out too.

There was too much dedication in her eyes. I noticed it once when I glanced over my shoulder to see if she had gone inside. And there they were. Greenish- grey, cold and steely, like a jade stone.

What if you put commas instead of periods? That way makes more sense, well... to me. I don't know... what do you think? Do what you think is better.
There was too much dedication in her eyes. I noticed it once when I glanced over my shoulder to see if she had gone inside, and there they were, greenish-grey, cold and steely, like a jade stone.

"I'm just for you, Rachael " I said. "I'm anything you want me to be."

"I'm just for you, Rachel," I said. "I'm anything you want me to be."

She didn't blink, not once the whole time. And I loved her for it. I wanted to show her how much.

Here again... She didn't blink, not once the whole time, and I loved her for it. I think you should not divide this by periods because you're still talking about the same thing.

Good work! Keep writing!

It's pretty good. I love the whole artist and philospher concept. She's blind yet she's notices him .

I went inside, thoughts spiraling in my head. There was nowhere to sit and so I leaned against the wall, trying to support myself. I swallowed hard, tried to catch my breath, swiped the sweat on my forehead with the back of my hand. And then the image of her, the girl next door with the jade eyes appeared back in my mind, and suddenly I fell.

Hard.

In love.

You did that part right and its one of my fave parts.

~Spiderman~

Very nice story. I think the only thing I have to say that hasn't been said by others is that it kind of jumps in the beginning and I had to read it over again to realize what was going on. You talk about the girl calling the MC an artist and then you're talking about how long it took to drive. Something as simple as a transition or some kind of scene break would help make the changed between these two parts of the story flow better.