These (Revamped.)

These.
(Written October 30, 2006.)

I was on edge. The icy wind, biting cold, and that charmingly obnoxious, beautifully aggravating contradiction of a boy might have had something to do with it.

He had agreed to walk me home, and had lent me his mother’s ugly fuchsia earmuffs as some sort of recompense for my help with his Hemingway paper. Helping him was hardly a chore. I was addicted to post-Great War authors and inhaling his cologne.

We set out just as the sun was dunking itself into the Key Tower. An Oreo into a glass of milk. He exhaled cigarette smog-like breaths into the blue night air. I remember liking the way his hair looked under his hat, smashed against his forehead that way. My cheeks went numb.

We mused about the fantastically monotonous things that close friends muse about; I tossed aside every word out of his mouth and exchanged them for white noised infatuation. He said something terribly insightful. I fidgeted with my too-small gray mittens and chucked a sarcastic grenade of a remark his way. He laughed as it exploded in his face.

We were awkward after that. I kicked a snow mound and fumbled around for something (anything) to say. He was thinking, which was never a good thing. I watched helplessly as he studied my face, clicked into serious mode, and parted his chapsticky lips to say:

“Do you ever wonder why life is so fragile?”

Nope, I said, taking a gulp of snowflakes and avoiding his eyes, which developed the tendency to shift into this uncomfortable and intense gaze at the mention of anything partially momentous.

“Like, why humans were made so vulnerable, and breakable, and that sort of thing. For instance, right now” – he smiled – “right now I could step around this corner and an angry mob could just -- mow me down.”

I suppressed a giggle.

“Just, you know. Come flying out of the alleyway with torches and pickaxes and nail guns, angry about ... a half of a degree drop in the temperature or something.”

I bit my lip and grinned.

“No, but seriously, Lynds. It’s just like: babies being born with these God awful incurable illnesses, children starving worldwide, adults developing cancer -- I feel like it’s a miracle I’m still alive.”

I’m glad you are, I said, daring to meet his eye. Alive, I mean.

“Me too.”

We had a Moment then. One of those Moments where the world slows down, and everything you felt connected you to that person becomes redefined, and beautiful. And he wouldn’t let go of my gaze.

Charming as it was, I was itching to kill the cheesy sentimentality. So, I broke eye contact and chucked a block of ice at his head. He responded by bombarding me with an endless wall of snowballs, until I couldn’t take it anymore and cried Uncle.

Breathless and bemused, he spoke again:

"You know, you're not like other girls. You're ..."

Thoughtful?

Insightful?

So terribly witty that you’ve become addicted to my words?

Passionate? So arduous that it makes you crave that same passion with every fiber of your being?

Am I beautiful? (Oh, tell me I’m beautiful!) So exceedingly pretty that no other woman in the world could possibly compare?

Spontaneous.

Brilliant.

Lovely.

Tell me that I am someone you trust with your life, someone with whom you've found meaning and understanding.

Dance with me in the snow, all the while shouting at the top of your lungs that I am the most inspiring creature you’ve ever laid eyes upon.

Make me aware that one look in my eyes makes your heart pound so hard, makes your head feel so light, your stomach churn so violently you thought you’d never experienced life before!

Whisper to me that my very existence makes yours a bit more bearable.

And with a kiss (on this ugly gray street corner), tell me that I am amazing.

Surely that's the word you’re looking for, isn’t it?

"...weird."

Oh, I said. My eyes found their way to the pavement; my heart bellied up and gagged me in the throat. He was grinning, and the best I could do to cover up devastation was squeak out a insignificant ... Thanks.

Oh, I love it! - Your wording, and capture of a common event is, hmm, what's the word - kenetic. I can feel it, I can taste it, I can see it, just as if it was a memory from my own life.

I like the quirkyness of your narrator.

The only thing that stood out was: parted his chapsticky lips to say:
- I think it would sound better as chapsticked

Also another thing, in the second sentence the narrator talks about her lips spewing blod. Is that right? I mean: SPEW, To send or force out in or as if in a stream; eject forcefully or in large amounts; to gush, to gush forth. If her lips were spewing blood wouldn't he notice and remark?

And would the last dialogue be: "...thanks."?

Hope this helps,
CL.

Loved the interjectioned thoughts. You had awesome description, and here's a hearty congrats on a great job!

I can't decide whether I want to laugh or give your poor character a hug! But either way, this is some very nice writing, Lyndsey dear.

I felt that the beginning had a few awkward moments where the descriptions were nice, but somewhat out of place. Some of it was very funny, probably because it was too familiar. And the thoughts leading up to the last bit of dialogue were perfect.

So! More specifically:

It was a cold evening. So mind numbingly cold that my cracked lips spewed blood, and my teeth clattered together so fiercely it would drown out a galloping horse.

This is probably the paragraph I liked the least, which is a bad thing, since your opening is what has to reach out and grab your reader, pull him or her in and say, "Hey! Listen up!"

I have to agree with CL about spewed; it seems a bit overdone. I know that a lot of this is overdone for humor's sake, but since we haven't seen anything of the characters yet, it's kind of gross-sounding. I would try rephrasing the whole first paragraph, possibly starting with a new opening sentence.

"It was freezing - so cold that my lips were numb and cracked and wouldn't stop leaking blood.

I don't think you even need the horse. ...that sounded odd. lol... but really, the horse thing seemed like you were trying too hard, and you really don't have to.

He had agreed to walk me home, and had lent me his mother’s ugly fuchsia earmuffs as some sort of recompense for my help with his Hemmingway paper.

Nice! The only thing I'd change here is to omit the "had" before lent. It feels unnecessary.

Helping him was hardly a chore. I was addicted to post-Great War authors and inhaling his cologne.

YES! That sentence right there is the kind that makes me love a book.

I remember liking the way his hair looked under his hat, smashed against his forehead that way. My cheeks went numb.

Hee hee. This is cute - a very nice little detail - but I'd change "went" to "were." It makes it sound like her liking the way his hair is smashed beneath his hat makes her cheeks go numb (when it's actually the air being so dang cold, right?).

We mused about the fantastically monotonous things that close friends muse about; I tossed aside every word out of his mouth and exchanged them for white noised infatuation. He said something disgustingly insightful. I fidgeted with my too-small gray mittens and chucked a sarcastic grenade of a remark his way. He laughed as it exploded in his face. And then he looked at me and grinned, as if to say, “That Lyndsey.”

This paragraph was great - until the end. I loved the back and forth (without any dialogue! that's so cool!) and how you showed the different ways words can be used, but I didn't get the "that Lyndsey" part. Maybe that's just my own cluelessness, but I didn't understand why he'd give her that look.

We were awkward after that. I kicked a snow mound and fumbled around for something (anything) to say.

I hate that feeling, but you've captured it perfectly.

"You know, you're not like other girls. You're..."

Thoughtful?

Insightful?

So terribly witty that you’ve become addicted to my words?

I like how you start short and build up to longer attributes, then go back to short and end in long. It flows nicely.

Am I beautiful? (Oh, tell me I’m beautiful!) So exceedingly pretty that no other woman in the world could possibly compare?

The parenthetical thought really makes me want to hug your character. What teenage girl hasn't thought that at one time or another?

Virtuous.

I understand what you're saying here, but if a guy told me I was virtuous, he'd probably have to expound upon that thought, LOL.

"...weird."

To borrow a phrase from Sam: CLASS! Could you have led up to this any better? I think not.

"Oh," I said, my eyes finding their way to the pavement, my heart gagging me in my throat. He was grinning into the corner of my eye, and the best I could do was cover up devastation with "...Thanks."

I was so caught up by this point that I didn't really notice the awkwardness of this paragraph until I re-read it. I think the description is necessary to slow us down after the bam-bam-bam-bam of the thoughts. And how do you grin into the corner of somebody's eye? I can understand seeing them grin from the corner of your eye, but grinning into somebody's eye? That confused me.

Try rephrasing (not that you should necessarily use this; it's only a suggestion): ""Oh," I said. My eyes found their way down to the pavement and my heart was gagging me in my throat. He was grinning, and the best I could do was to cover my devastation with: "...thanks.""

Overall, very nice work here, Lyndsey. Thanks for the read!

EDIT: Oh, almost forgot... I think Hemingway only has one 'm.' >.<

Oooo! I liked this.

The main issue I have is the first paragraph. Describe the guy character. And for goodness's, don't use the word "so" so much and so early in the story.

Still... good stuff.

I like how the the paragraph is like a random list of the character's thoughs, yet you still manage to make them fit together.

Loved the wait for what he was going to say. For what this was, it was elegantly done.

Awesome. Thank you for the responses. I think we're all in accord that I need to scrap the first paragraph so ... will do. I am rereading it now and literally wincing.

CL: Thank you so much for the kind remarks. I was battling back and forth between the two words (chapsticked/sticky), so I am glad I could get some solid feedback on that word in particular.

ARI: I knew that. About Hemingway. I swear. I'd just looked it him up on google to make sure I was spelling it right, and I still made an error. Gosh, college is rotting my brain.

About the virtuous thing ... lol. I agree completely. At the time I wrote the first half of this (which was actually the ending sequence), I was in love with, hm. How do you say "a man of God" without seeming so -- gag me? Still, I will think of another adjective to put in there. Until then, it will remain.

SNOINK: Thanks ... But I kind of wanted the guy character to retain a bit of anonymity? I guess the entire story needs to be expanded anyway.

Jack and Wiggy: Nothing in particular to say to the two of you, but thank you for your comments. It means a good deal to me.


And with that, I am off to revise.

Oh my GOD... Short, elegant, humerous, beautiful.

I ENVY YOUR TALENT!

Tell me I'm beautiful, that was the best part... I mean, all the words... they were pretty... I liked it, I didn't think your eadlly needed to change anything... Though I would punch my boyfriend outta spite if he told me I was weird lol... and then shove the earmuffs in his mouth.

I loved this, I've been waiting for a new thing of yours.

You can make him still stay anonymous, but at least provide us a picture of him so he's more like a person and less like a ghost.

Lyndsey, I totally get what you're saying about the whole "man of God" thing. It's one of those things that's really nice to see in real life, but is kind of hard to put into words without making everyone want to stab their eyes out.

But we're writers, right? So we can do it. More specifically, you, since you're the one who's got it in the story... Just kidding. I know you'll figure out a way to convey your meaning. You're just cool like that.

I like how it all flows together. I love it!

Liz (TBRRRR): Oh my goodness, I've missed you! Thank you for the review ,you are always so kind.

Snoink: Gah. I have been trying to do that, but every addition I've made to the story I've deleted because it just ... doesn't seem to fit.

Ari: Haha, thanks for the vote of confidence.

miyaviloves: Thank you!

XD

Post your possible beginnings and let us choose! We can decide better than you.

I have to say, this really spoke to me. I can't even count how many times people have called me weird, even a teacher did once. ("Everyone in here watches T.V., right?" "I don't." "Okay, uh, all the normal people?" Or something like that.) Well, I can't think of any corrections to make apart from what everyone else has pointed out. Thanks for making me smile.

Awesome description! It flowed nicely, and the narrator is quirky and likeable. Good job!