Monster.

No matter what he did, or where he decided to go, he always ended up here. He exhaled slowly, breath frosting in the air before him. He was alone. It was around sundown, although you couldn't tell; the sky a constant, colourless grey. No one ventured out at this time.

He lit a cigarette. The tip flared a vivid orange red as tendrils of smoke snaked out of his mouth. He looked around; boarded up windows, empty shops, vacant bus stop benches. It was a ghost town. He ground the cigarette beneath his boot.

His stiff, brocaded jacket sat heavily on his shoulders. He picked at gold buttons that didn't shine, flexed fingers pale white from the cold, anything to avoid the inevitable. He turned his head, as he had at this exact moment, of every day, for the last several years; stared at the face. Gaping and huge, twisted in unthinkable anguish, it was the only thing real in this sterile place.

So you've come back.

The face didn't move, but the ponderous sense of jaws opening and closing was still there. The smooth, feminine tone, revealed nothing.

"Have I," he said, more a dull recognition then a question.

He looked up at the eyes.

Why did you do it?

Always they went through the same routine. "Why do we do anything?"

It was a question that lurked at the back of his mind, haunting him with its elusiveness. Why had he done it? Why did he walk and talk and think and feel when all he wanted to do was sleep?Why did he come back to this place?

To remind himself, he realised suddenly: to remember.

His hands shook; so pale when they should be red. It seemed to him that the eyes, so empty, should be red from weeping. They should be saying something, instead of remaining silent. So terribly quiet. He hunched his shoulders.

Why do you come back?

So many questions. Familiar, stabbing hurt. "To see you," he whispered. The hypocrisy hung between them. He looked away.

Liar.

"So tell me the truth," he said.

A single tear from the heavens dropped, bursting on his hat.

You are an anomaly; a murderer who begs. A liar who seeks truth.

He spat, but the taste remained. He swallowed, but the guilt lay heavy on his tongue. He was so cold. So alone.

"Why do you torment me?!" A strand of saliva stretched between his bared teeth. Who was the monster here?

If you are going through hell, keep going.

And he could, too. But then, it was never that easy. "If only it were that simple."

He stared at the mouth, seemingly ready to consume him. "If only it were that simple," he repeated.

There were so many things to say... he wanted to weep and confess, to fall and rail, to scream and be noticed. So many things to say and yet the silence said everything. How long would it take for it to all come out? He sighed.

You shouldn't have done this. It isn't right.

Why couldn't she see? "I had no choice." Frustration ate at him, he wanted to make her see... he wanted to be with her; to live again. "If it was wrong, why did no one stop me?"

The logic of a criminal; a mad man.

"A man in love," he corrected.

Release me!

And here finally, desperation cracked the dull, relentlessly toneless voice. As it always did. He sighed again, looking up as the grey sky finally split and rain fell. It was time to go.

Till next time.

Composed once again, her voice revealed nothing.

"See you...," he said. With a last, longing look, he turned and strode away.

Hey, Jig. A short crit I'm afraid. Then again, that could be a good thing.

Cheers to your nameless narrator. I'm glad others are using this technique to its wonderful potential.

This is pretty potent stuff for what is left unsaid. I rather enjoyed it for what it was. I'm not going to comment over what I think happened because frankly, that is up to the reader. But you have several hints that help tp establish what might be going on.

I think your descriptions are wonderfully done for the most part. As for the face, I think it could use more. Without the Fools' Duel picture, I would be utterly helpless (although my entry also relies on the picture a tad too much as well ^_^).

See you later.

I found this to be a bit cavalier considering the tone and the events.

Other than that, I found it nicely done. Good luck in Fools' Duel!

*whistles* Wow, quite the lovely piece you've got here. Perhaps I should join this Fools' Duel just to see what all the fuss is about

Jiggity wrote:No one ventured out at this time.

This line (I think) contradicts this one:

Jiggity wrote:He looked around; boarded up windows, empty shops, vacant bus stop benches. It was a ghost town.

Unless you mean people in general don't come out about this time.

Jiggity wrote:Turning his head, [s]he did it at last[/s], as he had at this exact moment, of every day, for the last several years.

I don't think that part is necessary and I feel it flows better without it.

Jiggity wrote:He stared at the face. Gaping and huge, twisted in unthinkable anguish, it was the only thing real in this sterile place.

Very nice here. I just finished reading The Great Gatsby and the sight of a face reminded me of the billboard above the Wilson's garage that symbolized God. Though in this case, I think it's more a symbol of the woman he killed

I really liked this piece and how you left so much up to the reader to figure out. And to mimic Trident's sentiments, good luck in FD!

Excellent, thanks a lot for the comments! Tri, im glad you picked up on the saying little to emphasise what was left unsaid thing. This was, and I think all my writing in future will be as well, influenced by Ernest Hemingway's 'Hills Like White Elephants' which I had to read and analyse at uni a week or so ago.

As for your suggestions, well, I made a few minor adjustments.

Cheers.

^_^

I was actually going to mention the Hemingway thing. That very story! Left it out for some reason.

It was successful, I'd say.

Eh.

Jig, I'm sorry, but this fell a bit short for me. No doubt, the piece has it's strong moments. Your descriptive language is superb, despite your tendency to go comma happy within it. The piece on the whole, though, felt empty (and not in a good way.) Bare bones structure can work; but it must be sparse on words, while rich in feeling, meaning. There was not enough detail within your piece, I felt, to make me feel, or understand.

For instance, the man character is torn up -- he has killed her, and yet he wants "to be with her, to live again." Why? What is motive for these feelings? I don't need a wordy explanation about how they fought and he was abusive and she cheated on him -- but I need to have some clue as to what kind of relationship they had. Who is this man? Who was this woman? Again, descriptions of them can be bare bones; and in that case, word choice is everything. But I need some detail before I can relate, I need to relate in order to feel, and understand.

In addition to this, I will be nitpicky and say there were a few blatant grammar typos that irked me. Also, these lines:

And he could too. But then, it was never that easy. "If only it were that simple."

He stared at the mouth, seemingly ready to consume him. "If only it were that simple," he repeated.

I think these lines should be combined. I feel like you had too much spacing in the piece in general. And the repetition of that quote seemed off.

Anyhow. I can see that there is much potential for this piece, but right now it looks hastily thrown together, and the characters seem underdeveloped. You have a good concept, but if you're going to be a minimalist, it has to be edited to perfection.

Best of luck,
Lyndsey

What came before wasn't the focus, nor is it, I think necessary. Its omission is meant to make you think about it, yes, but feel? I don't know if that was my intention. I didn't want to explain, merely present a scene; a snapshot if you will. You don't really see what came before or the origins of the things captured in a photo, do you? I understand what your saying and I may, at some point when I look at this again, take that on board, but for now I feel as if its done what it was meant to do...

Thanks all, for your comments!!

Told ya I'd get around to it Just took me a while.

To remind himself, he [s]realised[/s] realized suddenly. To remember.

[Comment on the spelling change: this may be an American thing, hell if I know.] This part seems set up strange. I want to change it to: To remind himself, he realized suddenly: to remember. But even then, I'm confused about it. Is the "To remind himself" and "To remember" speaking of the same thing, because it can also come off as something like "To remind himself, he left a sticky note..." and you see my point. I suppose it works how you have it, it just made me read over it once or twice, I was kind of lost.

And he could too.

Comma after could.

I don't know what to say... I feel kind of cheated. I like the atmosphere that you presented, but I feel rather cheated of an actually story. I feel like so much is untold, hidden underneath, like you could have put so much more into this. It was good it just...could have said more? It wasn't like what you usually write. Your other pieces are much more disturbing, fuller, they bring more into it. Perhaps you were trying to create the same affect, with less? It worked I suppose but... I would have liked it more had I been given more. It was creepy but...why was it creepy? Because you write good. The story its self wasn't. I enjoyed reading it, because I like your voice and style, but as for the plot and everything it felt slack. But, I may be the only one thinking this. It was short, which isn't that problem, it's the fact that it lacked...substance? I'm not sure that is the right word, but either way, I think you understand what I am trying to say.

If you have any questions, PM me, since I might have been confusing Sorry this took so long for me to get to! Best of luck at winning! I'm not entering

Yes, my other works... are more me, I guess lol. This was a deliberate attempt to say as little as possible. Seems to have worked and p***ed of everyone in the process.

which in turn=victory! Such was the case with Hemingway's style, although his is of course far, far, far x infinity, more accomplished.

I understand your frustration people, hahaha, I think, after the Duel, I'll redo in this in my normal twsited fashion and we shall what eventuates...

Thanks Clau! Knew you'd get to it eventually. Cheers.

'Lo Jig. ^_^


I have to say, firstly, apologies for the length of time it's taken me to respond to this. But I really have to say, more to the point, this is one of my favourite Fools' Duel entries courtesy of Sinister Jigster. ^_~

Nothing struck me as too vague or incomplete. You've set up the face (in the wall?) well, compared to your character - monster to monster and wide mouth, saliva. The tension holds up deftly, between dialogue and brief description; and I don't think you need to be specific about what was done or who these people (or the voice) is.

It was disturbingly like Hell; and the atmosphere held throughout, despite its style, less characteristic-Jig, more brief.

Quote and image well-incorporated. I'd like to do the fine-toothed comb read-through, by I haven't the time. Only the mention of hypocrisy struck me as a wait - it seemed as if there either needed more specificity for it, or nothing.

Ah well. A very good read, Jigster. Now I'm off to bash my head into bureacracies for travel complications. #_# (...the Duel judging will be rather late, on that note.)



IMP

Didn't I tell you I'd get here? It just took... a few... weeks... month... *becomes suddenly and extremely interested in the ceiling* Ah well - but I'm here with a crit, in any event. ^_~

This was really a well-written piece, Jig. But I do have to agree with Shriek on the subject of deeper meanings - it feels like you just grazed the surface of it here, the reader can almost feel it, but then suddenly it ends and we never get drawn down into it. But of course, some of that is to be understood, this being a relatively short entry written for the Duel (and you with Univeristy wearing you thin). There really isn't much to nitpick, as far as the skill of the writing itself - you're getting entirely too good at this, Jig. ^_~ But something to look at here:

He lit a cigarette. The tip flared a vivid orange red as tendrils of smoke snaked out of his mouth. He looked around; boarded up windows, empty shops, vacant bus stop benches. It was a ghost town. He ground the cigarette beneath his boot.

His stiff, brocaded jacket sat heavily on his shoulders. He picked at gold buttons that didn't shine, flexed fingers pale white from the cold, anything to avoid the inevitable. He turned his head, as he had at this exact moment, of every day, for the last several years; stared at the face. Gaping and huge, twisted in unthinkable anguish, it was the only thing real in this sterile place.

Watch that you don't fall too much into a pattern of sentences beginning with 'He'. Mix it up a bit, as far as sentence inversion goes.

And here:

His hands shook; so pale when they should be red. It seemed to him that the eyes, so empty, should be red from weeping. They should be saying something, instead of remaining silent. So terribly quiet. He hunched his shoulders.

The contrast of the pale and red, of his hands and the eyes gets a bit tangled up in the telling - you might want to reword it a bit so that it doesn't catch quite so much here.

The back and forth of the dialogue is very well done, Jig - it feels like you know [both of] your character[s]. The writing is deep, effecting and rich - the writing draws you in. The over-all final look... not so much. Work on drawing some aspects of it out a bit, on really clarifying this man and this woman and their past relationship. Work on giving the final impression of the story, Jig, and make sure you really know what lies beneath all of this.

I don't want to heap too much of this upon you, in any event - it's just that this writing is so good and you have such a natural talent that I really want to see it go out with a bang, you know? This, already partially something, could honestly be something, something much more than just an entry written for the Duel. And to reiterate my worship of your talent - did I mention you had talent? ^_~

I hope that all made some vague and rambling sort of sense... Best of luck with the Duel, Jiggity!


--

(Critted for the CCF)

Blast, so we're back to the whole giving meaning to the story? I understand what you're saying about improving the final impression DD, but I ... guess I'm struggling with the idea of changing this. I like that it doesn't tell you anything really, just teases.

Anywho, thanks Pimpy Impy and DD, and everyone else. Comments appreciated.

Jig wrote:Blast, so we're back to the whole giving meaning to the story? I understand what you're saying about improving the final impression DD, but I ... guess I'm struggling with the idea of changing this. I like that it doesn't tell you anything really, just teases.

No worries, Jig. If that's what you were going for, then you've got 110% for a story here. ^_^ I was just making sure that such was what you were going for...

Don't beat yourself up - if you wanted it to 'tease', then you filled the order quite nicely. ^_~

Hey Jig!!

Before I go on, I must say that no matter how great your writing is, I will not stop being mad at you until you give me an explanation...a good one at that...for not posting! I mean, I know that you have a right not to post....but what about the people? Think about that. Please.

Well anyways, I loved this piece. It was very powerful and like everything else you've wrote it was to the point. There are a couple of pieces that I've been eying but they're like to long for me critique in one day so I'll just do it on a free day. I really have nothing else to say but I did like your main character. He didn't give in to people's perceptions and ooh there were some great lines. Poetic even
Favorite line:

A single tear from the heavens dropped, bursting on his hat.

Its a nice image and I love it almost as much as I love this story. Oh and before I forget, whatever happened to Shadow of the Sun? Or you still working on it? I was really getting into it and then one day you just stopped posting!!! My, I feel like writing a story about this. Jig not posting its like the end of the world. Okay I won't nag you like a little brat anymore but if you're curious about how this all started check your guestbook. Left a lovely message there a while back.

Keep writing,
-Angel

Wow, I haven't even thought of this piece in a long time...

Thanks Angel, for the comments, I sent you a PM about those questions haha. Incidentally, there's an edited version of thise entitled 'Faceless' or maybe its 'Face Off' - I can't recall, lol, but it is in my portfolio somewhere...if you're interested.