So I submitted 'Monster' to an anthology of short stories 'Flash Spec' that will be published later this year and was asking for submissions. It was short listed for publication but with some suggested edits, title included. Tell me what you guys think. For the most part I'm happy with it...but at the same time I dont really want to argue with it cos I want to get published: is that bad?
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Face Off
No matter what he did, or where he intended to go, he always ended up here. He exhaled slowly, breath frosting in the air before him. It was around sundown, although you couldn’t tell with the sky a constant, colourless grey.
He lit a cigarette. The tip flared a vivid orange-red as tendrils of smoke snaked out of his mouth. His stiff, brocaded jacket sat heavily on his shoulders. He picked at gold buttons that didn’t shine, flexed fingers pale from the cold – anything to avoid the inevitable. He turned his head and stared up at the weathered face.
Faded, gaping and huge, twisted in unthinkable anguish, the abandoned amusement park’s entrance betrayed none of its secrets, cloaked beneath decades of residual emotion. It was the only tangible presence in an otherwise lifeless void.
So…you’ve come back.
The face didn’t move, but an image of ponderous, articulating jaws overwhelmed him.
“Have I,” he said, more a dull recognition then a question. He looked up at the eyes.
Why?
Always the same routine. “Why do we do anything?” 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 keep returning here?
To remember?
“No!” His hands shook.
Why then?
Familiar, stabbing hurt. “To see you,” he whispered, grinding the cigarette beneath his boot.
Liar.
“Then tell me the truth!”
A single tear dropped from the heavens, exploding on his head.
You’re an anomaly. A murderer who begs remorse. 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.
If you’re going through hell, keep going!
“If only it were that simple.” He stared at the gaping mouth, seemingly ready to consume him. 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 his silence said everything.
“I had no choice!” Frustration ate at him. He wanted her to understand, wanted to be with her.
He wanted to live again.
“If it was so wrong, why did no one stop me?”
The logic of a criminal. A madman.
“A man obsessed,” he corrected.
The grey sky finally opened. Time to leave.
Release me!
“No,” he said softly.
With a last, longing look he turned slowly and then strode away. Behind him, trickles of rain bled from large, faded eyes.
