A Pillar of Salt

A Pillar of Salt


I remember.

It is not by choice. If I could, I would delete the memory entirely, taking away the vivid details and replacing it with a sunset. Because there was a sunset, and a pretty one at that. The sky was a dusky gray, soon to be a deep black, but there were streaks of pink and orange that could not be hidden, even from the blinding car lights rushing off to somewhere else.

I was in one of those cars. I was rushing off to somewhere else. It was for a chemistry class and I remember feeling anxious. I’m not sure why, though I think it had something to do with a test. I don’t think it matters anymore. But we were rushing and rushing among a sea of blinking turn signals – and then we stopped.

There was a man crossing the street.

He wasn’t remarkable in the least. He was somewhat attractive, but what drew my eyes was how old he looked. It wasn’t that he was actually old – I doubted he could be more than thirty. Yet, there was something about the way he held himself, with his shoulders so broad and his lips so tight and…

And behind him, there she was. She was a woman, much older than him, maybe in her late forties, though she had so much make up on that it was hard to tell. But, though she tried to hide herself, tears streaked down her painted face, and, as she raced after him, her sagging breasts leapt with every step she took. She was running, but her steps were lop-sided and took so much effort that it looked like every breath she took, she was gasping for a scream. But she did not follow him. Though she was running – she was dying – she did not follow him, instead watching him with betrayed eyes and exhausted lips. And she screamed. She screamed at him and yelled so hard that I could hear her frightened cries pelt the glass and I could not help but to tilt my head away from her. But she continued screaming, though this time her shoulders sagged and as I continued watching her, she collapsed. She collapsed, her withered arms clinging to a lamppost, her head falling into her chest, her eyes still following him.

He didn’t turn back.

I started trembling, though I’m not sure why. I think I felt uncomfortable, but there was no more time to think. The sun faded off into the distance, and with it came a green light. We drove past.

Wow...that's really abstract...which is not saying I didn't like it, but I didn't fully understand it...hehe. It was really well written!

=D

Good job!

-JC

I liked this, it was very... errie and interesting and I loved the description along with the point of view. Will there be a continuation of this? It's fine alone because of how different and interesting it is. I'm just really intruiged right now. Lol. Great job on this!

~Rieda

Snoink wrote:But there was no more time to think. The sun faded off into the distance, and with it came a green light. We drove past.

The bolded line threw me off. I found the rest of the story to flow remarkably well but this one sentence killed the ending paragraph for me. Though, I'm not sure how to remedy that ^_^()

My favorite part was your description of the woman chasing after the man. I could totally picture it and in some way, feel how trapped and despaired she felt at his leaving her.

Lovely job Snoinkus! (And I promise to work on the banner for FREAK sometime this week. ^^)

J>> Glad you liked it! It's funny that you say it's abstract because it's based on something I actually saw. Kind of freaky, actually. O_o

Rieda>> LOL! Oh no, this was a short story and I never thought about continuing it, mostly because it was a real life experience, I guess. But I'm glad you like the style! I guess I can learn off of it for my new novel, which happens to be in first person.

Luna>> Ouch... I can't think of how to fix that either. Anyone else? *flails*

Simply combine him- "I think I felt uncomfortable, but there was no more time to think."

I believe the reason that I admired this piece for how well-written it was- but I didn't love it to tears- was because it didn't make a big impact.

Yes, it was abstract. Does that mean it can't be personal? Nope!

A not-so-simple fix: make the narrator matter. One writes in first person to get inside the character's head, but in this instance, all we got for that digging was some whining about a chemistry test.

How does the incident at the red light affect the narrator, emotionally? Yeah, we know that he/she trembled, but we don't know how it made them feel emotionally. There needs to be some connection there, or it's pretty much the same as writing about a character who trips on the sidewalk. You could fancy it up as much as you like, but since this happens to everyone and everyone knows the physical consequences, it just isn't meaningful.

We've seen people in distress before, and it's made us uncomfortable. Why did it make Narrator feel uncomfortable? That's what'll make it feel more like a story, yet still keep it creative and abstract.

Thankus always Sammus! That one sentence is edited, thanks to you.

And I'll keep the other stuff in mind when I tackle Unicorn Killers, all right?

I enjoyed it - how could I not? - but for some reason I find myself feeling that it promised so much and failed to deliver. You are very good at writing suspense - the way you describe the woman chasing after the man was very vivid and ever so slightly frightening. But the ending leaves me with no sense of resolution. I am left wondering what, exactly, happened, and why I needed to know about it. Y'know?

Don't get me wrong. I think it's a lovely taut little piece and I wish it was longer. But I also wish there was...some...MEAT in it. I dont know. I've never really been a fan of short stories, LMAO.

I agree with Sam that the narrator needs to matter more. Perhaps we could get some kind of feeback, even just their thoughts, regarding what's happening? I mean, I know they're colouring everything with their viewpoint, but at the same time - arent they curious? Dont they want to know what's going on? What are they doing while all of this is going on?

You're cruel, Snoinkus. You dangle this exciting and suspenseful incident in front of us but you just dont give us enough information to feel satisfied!

One thing I must say, though. Love the title. Very apt.

And that's my 2 cents

Cheers,
~bubbles

I enjoyed it - how could I not? - but for some reason I find myself feeling that it promised so much and failed to deliver.

I kind of got this feeling myself. The way you took us into the setting, made us feel and see what the pov character was feeling and seeing was fantastic, darling, it's always been one of your strengths. And I think the way you narrated the scene between the man and the woman outside the car was also very well done--I could see everything that was going on like I was watching a movie.

Maybe part of it was that I felt I was watching a silent movie. I remember your description of the woman's scream, but you used the word "hard," and so I interpeted it as more a physical force than an audible one. The silence of your story does add to the flavor of it, but it also makes it...well, a lot like watching a movie on mute. Don't know if that's what you were going for, just something I noticed.

I really enoyed this piece, you said that you were not going to continue this but I reallt think you could make something of it! Yor description seems very well thought out, and it shows the high standard of writing that you work at.

All the best,
Meevs
x

I kept waiting for one of them to get hit by a car, you know? It was like the classic set-up for a hit and run, but it didn't happen, and that was great.

What I think is really excellent, though, is that I can see both of the characters, although you didn't give them much in the way of physical description. Even better, it feels like I am the narrator; when I was reading, I was seeing the scene the way I see things through my glasses. I could see the car the narrator was driving, and so on.

Snoink wrote:If I could, I would delete the memory entirely, taking away the vivid details and replacing it with a sunset. Because there was a sunset, and a pretty one at that.

I think it would flow better if you found a way to combine those two sentences. "If I could, I'd take them out of the picture, and just keep the sunset," or something like that.

Snoink wrote:It was for a chemistry class and I remember feeling anxious. I’m not sure why, though I think it had something to do with a test.

Just a thought, but can you take out the specifics, like chemistry class and test? Just keep it so that the narrator is feeling anxious about something trivial, and so the reader can "become" the narrator a little more, and fill in their own anxieties, like the rest of the piece allows.

Very good, though; very interesting, and not at all what I was expecting.

Thanks for all the comments!

Okay... all of you bring up good points. It's too detached or impersonal for it to really draw a reader in and too specific for it to be a riveting abstract piece.

I might edit later (er... like... if I am inspired later on) but for now I appreciate all your comments and can't wait to incorporate your suggestions in my first person novel.

Thanks again!

I really liked this! I have problems with being succinct sometimes, but with very few words you managed to convey a massive amount of feeling, along with a setting that's vague enough to give the reader's imagination some license without being confusing. I don't see any need to continue it. It could work as the opening to a novel, though, so I guess you could use it someday if a novel ever seemed to unfold from this piece.

One suggestion:

I started trembling, though I’m not sure why.

I read this differently than it was intended. Actually, I read it wrong twice. Maybe you could just change it to "I was trembling, though I'm not sure why." Because the first time I thought it was supposed to say, "I stared, trembling," and the second time I thought it was, "I started, trembling," so I was pretty much confused.

I really enjoyed it, though. I like your short stories.

I liked this. A lot. The imagery, the words, the lines, the structure--everything was perfect. It flowed, and the story itself could be translated into a poem. In fact, the story itself is the best part of the entire story. It's as if you are glimpsing into another person's life, and what you see is truly terrifying. I liked the way you dealt with the emotions, and showed her sentiments without telling, "She was heartbroken because he left her." I loved it!

My favorite line in the entire work is

Though she was running – she was dying – she did not follow him, instead watching him with betrayed eyes and exhausted lips.

It has sort of a unique structure, and parallelism that rests nicely on the tongue.

And it was nice how you included nothing about the person speaking, the main character, because that shows us how sudden the event is and that the story, in itself, is simply a snapshot of life, and particularly not hers.

The only error I found was that when you said that you did something, like "I trembled," it made the reader less aware of your feelings, rather than "My hands trembled," or "My body trembled."

Overall, short, but good for how long it was. I think it could work really good as something inside a larger piece where we know the narrator better. There were just two parts that I felt really should be improved.

But she continued screaming, though this time her shoulders sagged and as I continued watching her, she collapsed. She collapsed, her withered arms clinging to a lamppost, her head falling into her chest, her eyes still following him.

I think that when the woman falls, there should be more description.

I started trembling, though I’m not sure why. I think I felt uncomfortable, but there was no more time to think.

This part just seems cliche. Also, the rest of the piece uses very original language, but in this part the language just seems unoriginal and bland. I do like the very end though. And the very start about replacing the memory with just the sunset. Good job.[/quote]