Pandora's Box

Snoink · 2008-04-19T07:52:35Z

In her dreams, she holds a box. It is a blue box, wrapped in a deep velvet, embossed with little stars and moons. There is no lock, but all around the box, there are silver hooks which shut it tight. And the inside? She doesn’t know what it looks like. * He comes up to her when she is sleeping, her arms curled around her head. It looks as if she is trying to hide away from something, something that she wants to escape, something that plagues her, something that... he doesn’t understand. He creeps to her, his eyes curving around her naked body. “Love,” he whispers. She flinches at his word. “Love?” He creeps closer to her and breathes ambrosia in her pale cheeks. Slowly she opens her eyes, so slowly that her lashes lift up like lazy black butterflies. At first, she doesn’t see him. He is standing in the sunlight and she blinks, not knowing whether she was awake or still in the darkness of the dream. It is only a minute later when she notices him. Her lips round and she quickly hides her breasts with one arm and reaches for her chiton with the other. “Stop that.” She regards him for a long moment and stops, propping herself up so she could see him better. “Who are you?” she whispers. Her voice trembles. He looks down at her and then frowns, kneeling down to her level. “Don’t you know me?” he murmurs, letting two fingers race across her neck. Her skin bristles and she shakes her head desperately. “Let me go,” she whispers, but he ignores her. Instead, he takes her hand, both hands, and draws her closer to him. “Don’t you know me?” She is in his lap now, her breast close to his, and each breath comes out as a stifled tornado. She moans. And her heartbeat throbs so much that she is afraid that she will break. “I love you,” he whispers. His kisses feel like fuzzy moths hovering over her cheeks and lips and he is so close that he eclipses the sun. Everything is dark, everything is dark except for his eyes. They sparkle. “Oh God, please don’t, please don’t,” she begs. He sets her on the grass, still kissing her gently. “Come with me,” he says. “Anesidora, come with me.” For a moment, she tenses and digs her fingernails into the dirt, relishing the feeling of the grass cutting into her wrists and the dirt wedging into her fingernails. And then, as he climbs up her, her body constricts. “No,” she whispers. “Please, no.” “I love you,” he says, kissing her once more. Her body fights to relax. She gasps and struggles underneath him, but her struggle only rips up the green and pulls her closer to the earth. She is burying herself. The thought terrifies her. It is a relief when he picks her up and carries her in his arms. The sun blinds her, dazzles her, and she hides in his robes. He smells like metal and blood and he is so human that she wants to cry. “It’ll be all right,” he whispers, nuzzling his cheek in hers. “Everything will be all right. Come, let carry you home...” * The grass is gone. That’s all she can think. Her fingernails are clean now, darkened red and perfect, and her hands smell like soap. She looks like soap too, she is so pale and soft that when people see her, they gasp and reach out to touch her, hoping that her touch would save them. But she simply slips away. She likes to slip away. She likes to hide from the visitors that come and come and come to meet with him . When they come they talk so much that their lips hang off their mouths and their skin nervously flaps around. They are scared and bitter and they hate him. She doesn’t know why he insists on seeing them. She would rather be alone. She likes to look at paintings of ducks and geese and pheasants flying. They are in the wilderness and it is wild and the grass is so thick and gold that she wonders if she could just jump and disappear into the gold. Or maybe she already has. She looks around the room and shivers. It is gold. There is gold trim, gold coins, gold candlesticks with stubby unlit candles, and gold chalices, full of wine, and it’s cold and gold and she wants to die. He is there. He is counting the gold with fancy scientific devices, his face screwed up so much that she knows he is thinking. He looks gold too. He is wearing gold robes and he has a gold crown and his fingers are weighted with so much gold that she wonders whether those were actually the fingers that touched her. She wonders if he sees her. She is wearing his clothes, a blue velvet robe embossed with silver stars and moons. When he put it on her, she protested, but he only put his finger on her lips. “It matches your eyes,” he whispered. He is measuring out silver when she finally dares to move. “You said you wanted to give me something?” she asks, looking around the cold metal. He looks up to her and smiles. “Later,” he says. “I want to go home.” Her voice is trembling. He is quiet. With one hand, he feels silver. With the other, he is not doing anything. She is transfixed by these fingers, how they curl even when they are not moving and how, with every breath, they seem to flex with an unnatural power. “It is not time yet.” He returns to the gold. * She likes it best when he is sleeping. He snores so loud that she can’t hear what she is thinking. She can’t feel anything either. She is tied up so tightly in his arms that she can never get free. But she cannot think about this. She can’t think about anything, and she sighs blissfully before her eyelashes close and she sleeps. She sleeps and as she dreams, she dreams of spring and beauty and fauns dancing around and music, music so wondrous that it paralyzes her and makes her throat turn raw until all she can do is scream. And she screams and it echoes echoes echoes across the valley and for once, she is not a part of nature--she is nature and her body loses shape until she and Gaia combine until they are one and she is all. It is only when the owl hoots do her eyelashes open up and she realizes that she is here with a monster who drools in his sleep and when he talks, half-awake, he speaks tender words and his voice ruffles against her skin until she is one with him and one... He stirs in his sleep, and as he moves, she hovers over him. “What could you give me?” she asks. “What could you possibly give me?” He smiles at this question and pulls her closer, his breath smelling of ambrosia and milk. “My heart,” he murmurs before falling back. * Evening came and morning followed. She is sitting in his clothes on the marble floors, fidgeting. He is gone for the moment, for another important matter, and he has left her behind, fidgeting, wondering why she is there. She glances over the stone floors, letting her fingers trace the cracks, and shivers. There are people waiting for him to return, waiting him to come back to them so that they talk. They tap their feet impatiently and talk to each other in angry, hurried voices about nothing in particular. She listens to their voices dance together and wonders what they could possibly want to talk about. A woman glides past her, and then another, staring at her like she is a part of the floor, like she is a guilty seed that has somehow sprung a flower in the middle of a Roman cathedral. She cannot bear to look at them. They are too beautiful and her heart ties itself into knots whenever she sees even the tips of their sandals. “Anesidora?” she says. She pretends not to hear it. “She is a stupid one,” one of the women says. “She is not suitable for our purposes. She will bungle the whole process.” “But she is beautiful...” “That doesn’t matter.” They spend another minute looking at her. Finally, the second gives a low whistle. “ He seems to think she can do it though,” she says thoughtfully. “ He seems to think she is perfect for the job.” “He is wrong.” Her stomach pulses and she tries to curl up, tries to wither away from them, but they only talk louder. “We shouldn’t have made her,” the first one says. “We never should have made her. Look at her now. She can never be equal to us.” “But she is beautiful...” * When they are gone, she tries to kill herself. She slams her head into the wall again and again and again until she is faint and all she can do is collapse. She wanted to go, she wanted to go... when he comes back, she keeps telling him that. But he ignores her, telling her that it is all right, it is all right... She asks him if he wants to give her misery. He shakes his head. * He treats her better after that. He dolls her up in golden dresses and golden bracelets and golden necklaces until she is chained in gold and cannot move. When he brings her to the mirror, she stares at herself. The gold dress has given her is bright and makes her face seem washed out and pale. And she feels hot. She wants to pat her cheeks, she wants to put water on her so she can be cleansed and cool, but two gold bracelets pin down her arms. “Turn around,” he says, and she obeys, spinning in a slow circle, her eyes shut tight as if she knows better than to orbit the room. For a minute, it is quiet. Then he whispers, “You look beautiful.” She glances at his face from the silver mirror and shudders. He is looking at her, he is looking at her like he is going to eat her and she wonders if he will. She closes her eyes tightly. “I want to go home,” she says. “You can’t.” “Let me go home,” she pleads. It is silent. She can feel the sizzle of his stare. She shudders. “If you don’t let me go, I’ll kill you.” He hesitates at her voice. “No you won’t.” A fire leaps in her eyes and she nods vigorously. “I will, I will!” She jumps up and throws off her bracelets, trying desperately to tear off the gown. “I’ll kill you and then it’ll be all right and everything will be all right--” He grabs her arms. For a moment, she stares at him surprised, and then she tries to twist herself away, screaming, begging, pleading, but she can’t move. She can’t move underneath his grasp, and he knows it. He grimaces and twists harder, harder, until the rings on her fingers ache and she can only gasp. “Do you want to go home?” “Oh please don’t, God, please don’t...” “Do you want to go home?” She stares at him at his sharp eyes and shakes her head. “I’m sorry,” she adds, “I’m sorry.” He ignores her and drags her out to the hallway and down the stairs, her body thumping hard each step they go down. She screams for help, for somebody to save her, but... She lands. For a couple of minutes, he just stares at her from the top, watching her huddle down protectively. Then he comes down, step by step, each footstep rattling her heart so much that she thinks she will die... He comes to her. First, he nudges her with his foot and then he checks her pulse. “Look what you’ve done,” he whispers. She shudders. He moves her body around and strips off her clothes, his hands moving skillfully over her face, ribs, her breasts... “Your ribs are broken,” he finally grunts, standing up. “Please,” she whispers. For a minute, he watches her, his eyes filled with regret. Then, carefully, he picks her up and cradles her in his arms. She gasps, but he kisses her face. “It’ll be all right, it’ll be all right...” * She doesn’t have any dreams when she lies in her room. Everything is real. Fauns dance around her and sunlight streams from the ceiling and she is free from all the gold. She tries to smile, tries to join them, but she can’t move. She is paralyzed. But the fauns don’t mind this. They sing and dance and come to her, stroking her hands with their curly lamb hair and laughing. They love to laugh. She likes it best when they hop on her and fuck her hard. It is a relief to feel and her fingers twitch and a smile creeps up her face... And then it goes dark and all she can see is Him. “You’re a little whore, aren’t you?” It is not condescending, it is a statement. He sounds bored. “You’ve been squeaking all day.” She tries to move, tries to tell him what happened, tries to tell him that the fauns are better than he is, and they would always be better, but as she does, pain erupts in her lungs and she can’t breathe can’t breathe can’t breathe... “You’ll be off the morphine soon,” he says, tying off her arm. A sharp jab and pain and then relief. Once more she is surrounded by dancing fauns. * He’s always there when they abandon her, but she can never see him. It is too dark. But sometimes she can hear him, breathing softly, so softly, until he sighs. And his sigh is so slow, so deep, that she can hear the ocean roar with every breath he takes. It is soothing. With an effort, she stretches out her arm to him, and she can feel his fingers interlocked with hers. “I love you,” she whispers. He is quiet. * She cannot stand at first when the morphine wears off. When she tries, her legs wobble underneath and she falls to the floor. And her body shakes so badly that she wonders whether she’ll be able to get up at all. With a sob, she pulls herself using the bedpost and staggers up, dizzy. She is alone. Her heartbeat quickens as she turns to the door and stumbles out. She can’t see and her ears are throbbing. And her hands are shaking so badly that she thinks her fingernails will fall off. One step and she collapses. She is alone, trapped outside of her room, and there is no going back. She licks the salt that hangs off her lips and cries. There are footsteps. “What are you doing?” It is him . She is petrified and all she can do is stare at him. He sees her, broken on the floor, and frowns, leaning over and cradling her in his arms. With a couple of steps, he is back in her room. With a couple more, she is back in her bed. He tucks in the covers. “You shouldn’t go anywhere,” he says. “It’s not safe.” She wants to ask him where he’s been. She wants to ask him why he abandoned her. In the back of her mind, she remembers the people, all the people that come to see him. He talks to them. She wonders whether he’ll ever talk to her. He moves to leave and a surge of panic shoots through her. He’ll leave her again, leave her for all the other people, just when she needs it most, and he won’t be there for her. He won’t be there. She points to her arm desperately, mouthing, “More.” He shakes his head. “Go to sleep.” She sticks the arm in his face. “What do you want me to do with it?” he says. His voice is impassive. “Help me,” she whispers. “Go back to bed.” * When she wakes up, she hears him . She is cold and drugged up and she can barely move. The rib next to her heart throbs so loudly that she thinks she is going deaf because of it, yet she can hear him clearly. He is in the other room, talking in a low voice to someone else... she doesn’t know who. She staggers up, her motions clumsy, and stumbles to the door. Her fingers won’t move. She closes them around the doorknob, but her fingers feel limp. And she feels so drugged... She opens the door. She has come to a fairyland. Grass is at her feet and a wind wisps by, bending the stalks so slightly that it seems like she is in an ocean of green. It is green, everything is green save for the buttercups and poppies scattered everywhere. A faun comes up to her and bows, his neat cloven feet dancing, inviting her to go with him. Grinning, he takes out his pan flute, but all she can hear is his voice. His voice has become the song and his breathing her rhythm. He is all there is to life. The faun disappears. She is in a dingy hallway and all she can hear is his voice. And then her laugh. She freezes. One step, two step, three step, stumble, right, one step, two, three, stumble, fall. Lie. Get up, stumble up, fall, fall on the floor. Face flat. She cannot get up. She can never get up. She cries for the faun again, but he is gone. He left and now there is him, only him, and that terrifies her. He opens the door. He opens the door to see what the noise is and when he sees her, helpless on the ground, he frowns. “You shouldn’t be there,” he hisses. Then a woman, another woman, an unknown woman, comes next to him. Anesidora hates her. The woman is beautiful and even though gold adorns her clothes and hair and body, it doesn’t chain her down. It only makes her float and as Anesidora watches her, the woman does float, to his side, to her side... and she is so beautiful. Her skin is pale but the gold doesn’t overwhelm it and instead warms up her flesh so that it seems to burn with heat and Anesidora wants to press her face into the woman’s soft breasts. But she knows this is impossible and, if Anesidora touched her, her clay fingers would burn until they would harden until only ashes were left. “Who is she?” the woman asks of her. Of her, the fallen woman, the dead woman. “Never mind,” he says quickly. “Never mind her. She is just another one.” “You’ve betrayed me,” Anesidora whispers. She is surprised it sounds so calm. “You’ve killed me.” The man looks vaguely uncomfortable. He looks to the other woman for guidance and she just shrugs. “Do what you must,” she says. He only nods. * He watches the woman retreat into his bedroom before turning back to Anesidora, an unreadable expression on his face. “Come on,” he whispers, tiptoeing closer to her. “Let me take you back to bed.” Anesidora shakes her head, smiling. “You’ve killed me,” she says. “You’ve killed yourself.” “How long have you known her?” When he doesn’t answer, she sits up and her vision spins. The faun is laughing at her. He is laughing at her and all she can see is his dancing cloven feet and all she can hear is his wild laughter. He has disappeared and she wonders if he is just another drug-induced fantasy. Her mind is spinning. She clutches her head. And then the tears come and she cries, cradling her body with her arms and shaking so much that goose bumps erupt on her flesh and she is shivering, shivering so hard that she wonders if she’ll just pass out. She hopes she’ll pass out. Through her tears, she can see him in the dingy hallway and he looks so golden and majestic with the dingy backdrop of his cavernous palace that it just makes her want to cry harder because she realizes that she doesn’t belong, that she is just another woman, and that terrifies her. She n eeds him. And yet she crawls away from him. She is crawling away from him, her eyes fixated on his shoes, wondering if there could be any cloven toes hidden and that the laughter that burns in her ears is his. But he is silent. He watches her crawl away from him, across the hallway. To the staircase... She hopes that he will stop her, that he will recognize the danger, but he says nothing, and with her heart about to burst, she lets herself slide down the stairs, step by step. First step, grass is at his feet. Second step, buttercups blossom out of his shoes. Third step and the walls transform into the sky. Fourth step and he becomes the sky. But the stairs were still hard and splinters steal into her knuckles as she slips down the stairs, ever so slowly into the dark cavern below. And she is still crying, she is sobbing, her tears making him blurry and indistinct. He doesn’t need her. “You’re making a mistake,” he says, just as she reaches the last stair and stands up on shaking legs. “You should come back.” She shakes her head and stumbles to the door. “Why not?” She hesitates. “I love you.” A cry comes out of her throat and she lunges to the staircase, her eyes fiery. “You said you would give me your heart!” she cries, clutching her chest and collapsing into the floor. But he ignores her. “You’re being unreasonable,” he says. “Oh God! Can’t you see why? Can’t you see why ?” “Come back to me.” She only shakes her head, her shoulders collapsing. “You know I can’t,” she says. “Oh God, you know I can’t.” With one last shudder, she walks to the door and opens it. “Goodbye,” she whispers, the words I love you stuck on her lips. He cries and moves to stop her, but it is too late. She walks out and it is hopeless. She is gone. She is gone. * It is hopeless.

Snoink

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Wed Aug 13, 2008 11:45 pm

Snoink says... · Wed Aug 13, 2008 11:45 pm

Major edits done! Anybody want to read and review? I give [s]cookies[/s] points.

Ubi caritas est vera, Deus ibi est.

"The mark of your ignorance is the depth of your belief in injustice and tragedy. What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the Master calls the butterfly." ~ Richard Bach

Moth and Myth <- My comic!

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JFW1415

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Thu Aug 14, 2008 7:10 pm

JFW1415 says... · Thu Aug 14, 2008 7:10 pm

*Boogies* You know I love you, Snoink, and I'm super excited to read this. XD I already read the first part, up to 'looks like', and I looove it! *Glee*

Onto the promised critique!

Nit-Picks

“Let me go,” she whispers, but he ignores her.

But he's not holding her – just touching her.

He sets her on the grass, still kissing her gently.

Oh – I thought they were in a room. Make it more obvious that they aren't earlier on.

And then, as he climbs up her, her body constricts.

Climbs up her? How's that work…?

He smells like metal and blood and he is so human that she wants to cry.

He's so human but smells like metal?

He snores so loud that she can’t hear what she is thinking.

I think a contraction, 'she's', sounds better than 'she is.'

She sleeps and as she dreams, she dreams of spring and beauty and fauns dancing around and music, music so wondrous that it paralyzes her and makes her throat turn raw until all she can do is scream.

I'd reword that a bit so it's not so rambly. Maybe 'She sleeps and she dreams. She dreams of spring and beauty and…'

She is sitting in his clothes on the marble floors, fidgeting.

Maybe 'she's'? I just realized this was present tense and it took me out of the story for a moment, but 'she's' is less harsh.

He grimaces and twists harder, harder, until the rings on her fingers ache and she can only gasp.

Why do the rings ache…? He's grabbing her arms, not fingers, and rings can't hurt anyway - the skin under them does. xD

He ignores her and drags her out to the hallway and down the stairs, her body thumping hard each step they go down. She screams for help, for somebody to save her, but...

Again, I feel as if he went down the stairs with her, as you say 'and drags her out to the hallway and down the stairs.'

It is him.

I think 'it's' would sound better.

“I love you.”

It's hard to tell who says this, since she just hesitated and the new line could be showing that.

Overall Comments

…

…

O.O

…

WOW.

How the heck am I supposed to critique that???

I'm still confused, but... it's a thoughtful confusion, you know?

It was AMAZING, Snoink. AMAZING.

But still, I'm not completely sure how the title or the first bit relates to this?

PM me for anything, and sorry about being completely unhelpful. XD

~JFW1415

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StarDuster

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Tue Sep 02, 2008 8:18 pm

StarDuster says... · Tue Sep 02, 2008 8:18 pm

The title was what first caught my eye. So I decided to look into it. Then I couldn't stop reading. I would do some constructive criticism, but I can't think of anything not already mentioned. The things that were "wrong" with it were so small it was easy to just forget them as I was caught back up in the story. I'm still curious about a few things, as I'm sure a lot of people are. This really grabs the reader's attention and I definitely want to read more. Great job.

"With every joy that passes
Something beautiful remains."

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germangrlzrule

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Tue Sep 09, 2008 9:32 pm

germangrlzrule says... · Tue Sep 09, 2008 9:32 pm

She likes it best when they hop on her and fuck her hard. It is a relief to feel and her fingers twitch and a smile creeps up her face...

this totally caught me of gard. It came out of nowhere to me. It seemeed like cute like fauns and then WABAM! I don't even know where it came from, and it made me feel a little sick.

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GryphonFledgling

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Tue Sep 09, 2008 10:41 pm

GryphonFledgling says... · Tue Sep 09, 2008 10:41 pm

O.O (like you haven't seen enough of those faces yet)

This was... I don't know how to describe it. Beautiful and disturbing and sick and inspiring and... just... I don't know. It was amazing though.

Yes, I feel myself rendered speechless by this. I didn't really understand it fully and I couldn't find anything to critique, so this feels a bit like a useless review, but I just had to say how marvelous it was. Seriously, it was like reading a dream, but whether it was a good dream or a nightmare could be debated. The emotions - terror, pain and betrayal - were just so vivid and real. *sigh* It blew me away.

I have to agree with germangrlzrule above me about the fauns. It was just so unexpected and raw that it actually provoked a physical reaction in me. In fact, the whole story did.

Jeez, you genius. Me feel stupid.

*thumbs up* Utterly jaw-dropping. You rock some major socks.

~GryphonFledgling

I am reminded of the babe by you.

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oneeyedunicornhunter

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Wed Sep 10, 2008 1:20 am

oneeyedunicornhunter says... · Wed Sep 10, 2008 1:20 am

Hmmm...mysterious, and yet it has a nice resolution (if death can be called "nice"). I have to go now, but i will elaborate when i come back in a few minutes.

Am I a one eyed hunter of unicorns or a hunter of one eyed unicorns? The world may never know.

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Angel of Death

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Sun Nov 16, 2008 6:15 pm

Angel of Death says... · Sun Nov 16, 2008 6:15 pm

Hey Snoink!

I just wanted to critique something of yours, because I haven't before. Well there really isn't anything wrong with this. It was beautiful! I could smell the imagery and the title is what really caught my eye, so good job ^_^

I like Greek and Roman Mythology so I was definitely not bored. I like how you made it seem like a fairy-tale with surreal qualities. You're a great writer and I shall read more of your work.

Ta,

~Angel

True love, in all it’s celestial charm, and
star-crossed ways, only exist in a writer’s
mind, for humans have not yet learned
how to manifest it.

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smaur

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Thu Jan 15, 2009 10:37 pm

smaur says... · Thu Jan 15, 2009 10:37 pm

So this is beautiful and yes, definitely a step away from your other writing; it's definitely more abstract(ish) than most of your other work, and there's a lyrical flow that I absolutely love. All of the bits of your writing click perfectly here. Your knockout lines are a knockout. Stuff like his fingers are weighted with so much gold that she wonders whether those were actually the fingers that touched her and It is hopeless — there's just the right amount of repetition and poetry and vagueness and vividness to make it stunning and powerful and all kinds of evocative.

In summary: hooray for you!

Critiquing style is something I'm not great at (alas!) but I think the writing itself is fabulous. As I've mentioned a couple of times above. I think sometimes you use a couple of lunky words to move the narrative forward, like "and then" or "after a minute", and you use stuff like that quite a few times. Sometimes it's okay but other times it's not. I went through and pointed out a bunch of instances of that — and tense change where tense change is not called for, and stuff like that.

In terms of the style of the story itself, I have one relatively non-tiny criticism. I really really love the mythological references but I feel like their sparsity makes them kind of incongruous with the rest of the story. I like that this isn't heavily bogged down in mythology, and I like the references that you do have. I guess the most specific would be the exchange between the two women in the hallway, which I assume are Athena and Aphrodite[?]. But, notwithstanding the original dream of Pandora's box or the fact that her name is Anesidora and the occasional fauns and things, the rest of the story is completely unrelated to anything (non-symbolic) of the Pandora myth. If that makes sense.

I guess the exchange between the two women in the hallway is the biggest incongruity, because then you assume that he is a character out of the myth (or at least, I did) and start to try and guess his identity. Which is kind of distracting, especially because I don't think he's really specifically based on anyone. If anything he's a mix of characters from various myths, not Epimetheus or anyone else from the Pandora myth. (Which makes me feel that she's also a mix of characters, in some ways. She's kind of Persephone if she managed to escape, a bit Demeter, too.)

Anyway, the point is that the two women in the hallway conversing making it very specifically and clearly about the Pandora myth and I feel like that's not so much what the story's about. Not in that way; it's not so much about the gods sending her down as it is about her being the box and her disconnection from the world and her despair. The sucky thing is that I do like the scene overall; I like that she is sitting helpless on the marble floor like a child while they discuss her. But I don't feel that it should be so obviously be two goddesses discussing the creation of Anesidora.

(Of course, I could be grossly misinterpreting the entire thing, which is the fun part of writing/reading stories like this.)

Anyway, that's my main issue of contention. This feels like a story that is almost entirely symbolic of Pandora's box and the conversation between the two goddesses make it too grounded in the reality of it. If you're going to have that, you might as well include more moments like that, where the story is more clearly linked to that. I don't think you need to, necessarily, but I also think that scene (and the scenes following it) are kind of helpful in building the story and the character of Anesidora. If anything, maybe make it with two humans talking about Anesidora? Or make it less specifically referential, with stuff like She is not suitable for our purposes or He seems to think she can do it.

Anyway, I hope that all makes sense.

* * *

Okay, I'm going to run through a couple of lines and just point out things I think can be omitted, or changed, or are otherwise unnecessary.

He comes up to her when she is sleeping, her arms curled around her head.

A really minor nitpick, but I don't think you need "up", I think it kind of disrupts that poetic quality that you have going on.

It looks as if she is trying to hide away from something, something that she wants to escape, something that plagues her, something that... he doesn’t understand.

The "something that she wants to escape" is kind of redundant after "she is trying to hide from something".

She flinches at his word.

Which can be, quite simply, "She flinches."

“Love?” He creeps closer to her and breathes ambrosia in her pale cheeks.

That should be "breathes ambrosia on her pale cheeks.

He is standing in the sunlight and she blinks, not knowing whether she was awake or still in the darkness of the dream.

Which should be "not knowing whether she is awake".

It is only a minute later when she notices him. Her lips round and she quickly hides her breasts with one arm and reaches for her chiton with the other.

"A minute" seems unnecessarily specific. The whole first part of the sentence — "it is only a minute later" — seems a little long-winded and unnecessary. I'm guessing the reason you phrased it like that is to make that paragraph less repetitive and weird, but it's extra clunky now.

That, and the next sentence has too many actions happening. I think you can omit the lips rounding bit (what does that mean? is she pursing her lips?) and, if you really wanted, do something like, "When she notices him, she quickly hides her breasts with one arm and reaches for her chiton with the other."

(For that matter, the "quickly hides" could be replaced with a verb like "shields" or something.)

She regards him for a long moment and stops, propping herself up so she could see him better.

Two things here:

One: it should be "so she can see him better".

Two: what is she stopping? If it's reaching for her chiton, then I would suggest putting it before "she regards him for a long moment". Just because, well, it doesn't take a long moment to grab a piece of clothing and if she's stopping after the long moment, she presumably would've picked up the garment by then. And also, implicit in "she regards him for a long moment" is that she is not really doing anything else at the moment, and so she would've already either (a) had the garment with her or (b) stopped grabbing for it. Presumably (a), because like I said, it doesn't take very long to pick up a garment.

(Okay, that was a ridiculously long explanation.)

He looks down at her and then frowns, kneeling down to her level.

The "then" is unnecessary; because it comes after the first action, it's implicit that it's sequential. It just makes the sentence clunkier.

“Let me go,” she whispers, but he ignores her. Instead, he takes her hand, both hands, and draws her closer to him.

The "instead" is also kind of unnecessary, because it's obvious that he's not letting her go. So, for that matter, is the "he ignores her" because of what happens next. I think you could shorten that by writing, "she whispers, but he takes her hand, both hands, and draws her closer to him."

And her heartbeat throbs so much that she is afraid that she will break.

First of all, it's not her heartbeat throbbing, it would be her heart. : ) Secondly, the connotation of "heart throbbing" is usually a good one, a pleasant sensation. (Hence heartthrob.) The first time I read that line, I read it as if she was enjoying herself, which she most obviously is not. Anesidora is feeling displeasure and discomfort, so I feel like you might want another word there to suggest that.

For a moment, she tenses and digs her fingernails into the dirt, relishing the feeling of the grass cutting into her wrists and the dirt wedging into her fingernails. And then, as he climbs up her, her body constricts.

I feel like you use the "for a moment [...] and then" structure a lot in the story, and often it doesn't really help to move the narrative forward, it just inhibits the flow of the story. I think the "for a moment" can definitely be cut out without any harm to the sentence (I think it actually makes it less clunky). The "And then," can stay although ideally, it would/could be cut out and replaced with something less repetitive but equally abrupt.

Her body fights to relax. She gasps and struggles underneath him, but her struggle only rips up the green and pulls her closer to the earth.

I'm not 100% sure what is going on here, mostly because "Her body fights to relax" totally contradicts the next sentence. Obviously no part of her is relaxed, and no part of her wants to relax — something is happening to her that she doesn't want to happen, and everything else in this paragraph suggests that she is fighting and so is her body. I think if you get rid of "Her body fights to relax" it will make significantly more sense, because with that sentence ... well, like I said. It gets confusing as to what she's doing and what's happening and what her feelings are towards this entire scenario.

“It’ll be all right,” he whispers, nuzzling his cheek in hers.

This should be "nuzzling his cheek against hers".

She looks like soap too, she is so pale and soft that when people see her, they gasp and reach out to touch her, hoping that her touch would save them.

That comma after "too" should be either a period or a semi-colon or a dash.

When they come they talk so much that their lips hang off their mouths and their skin nervously flaps around.

There should be a comma after "they come".

hey are in the wilderness and it is wild and the grass is so thick and gold that she wonders if she could just jump and disappear into the gold.

I feel like you need an adjective here that isn't "gold", simply because you establish a very clear contrast between her desire for the wilderness and her entrapment in this palace. And in the following sentences, you describe everything as "gold", and in later sentences you say that she is chained in gold. Which means that, well, gold is associated with bad things, human things, cold things, and that means that it is jarring that you use the word "gold" when describing something that she wants and loves.

There is gold trim, gold coins, gold candlesticks with stubby unlit candles, and gold chalices, full of wine, and it’s cold and gold and she wants to die.

I like this line. : )

She is wearing his clothes, a blue velvet robe embossed with silver stars and moons.

I don't know if this reference to the box at the beginning is obvious enough. I kind of like that it isn't, and that you have to read this once or twice before it hits you. The good thing is that it doesn't really matter that it's not very obvious, because the bit at the beginning is pretty easy to draw parallels from. I just wanted to point at it and say "yay"!

She likes it best when he is sleeping. He snores so loud that she can’t hear what she is thinking.

It should be, "he snores so loudly".

And she screams and it echoes echoes echoes across the valley and for once, she is not a part of nature--she is nature and her body loses shape until she and Gaia combine until they are one and she is all.

I think the repetition of "until" is weird and seems more unintentional than the repetition of the word "and", which is to say, I would suggest replacing the first "until" with an "and".

It is only when the owl hoots do her eyelashes open up and she realizes that she is here with a monster who drools in his sleep and when he talks, half-awake, he speaks tender words and his voice ruffles against her skin until she is one with him and one...

It should either be, "It is only when the owl hoots that her eyelashes open" or "Only when the owl hoots do her eyelashes open". And, for that matter, it's not her eyelashes opening, it's her eyelids. (You don't need the "up", it's just an extra word clogging the sentence.)

“My heart,” he murmurs before falling back.

The "before" is redundant and clunky. It's all sequential, so of course he falls back after he murmurs. (Falling back asleep? He's already lying in bed, so he's not falling back on that.) I would suggest just taking out the "before" and sticking a comma after "murmurs", so: "he murmurs, falling back [asleep]". Or "falling asleep", or whatever.

Evening came and morning followed.

Evening already came, did it not? What with the hooting of owls in the previous segment? Maybe "evening left" or something would make more sense.

He is gone for the moment, for another important matter, and he has left her behind, fidgeting, wondering why she is there.

"For the moment" makes it seem ... well, momentary, that he is going to be back later in this section. Which he is not.

“Anesidora?” she says.

The last "she" to be used in subject was Anesidora so it seems like she's the one talking, when in fact it is one of the women.

They spend another minute looking at her. Finally, the second gives a low whistle.

The "another minute" and "finally" kind of grate against each other. The "finally" isn't really a "finally" because it's only been a minute, if that makes sense. Maybe "another few minutes"?

The gold dress has given her is bright and makes her face seem washed out and pale.

That should be, "the gold dress he has given her".

She wants to pat her cheeks, she wants to put water on her so she can be cleansed and cool, but two gold bracelets pin down her arms.

And that should be, "she wants to put water on herself." I would suggest using a word other than "put" — it's so plain and non-descriptive, especially in comparison to all of the other words that can describe the movement of water — "pat" and "splash" and so forth.

For a minute, it is quiet. Then he whispers, “You look beautiful.”

Another example of using the "For a minute ... then ..." structure to advance the story when it is not needed. I think maybe it's the problem of "minute" being way too specific — "moment" seems better-suited, but maybe it's just 'cause I like using it.

She glances at his face from the silver mirror and shudders.

This should be, "at his face in the silver mirror".

She closes her eyes tightly.

She closed her eyes tightly about two sentences ago. "Screws her eyes shut"? "Squeezes her eyes closed"? Any other phrase that would suggest the same thing without using the same words. (It's also a little weird that she had her eyes shut and you never mentioned her opening them to look at him. Maybe, when "For a minute it is quiet," happens, she could open her eyes? So: "It is quiet. She opens her eyes and he whispers, "You look beautiful." Or something similar.)

She jumps up and throws off her bracelets, trying desperately to tear off the gown. “I’ll kill you and then it’ll be all right and everything will be all right--”

Isn't she already standing? Or is she just jumping up and down here?

I like her crazytalk. That's fun. : )

For a moment, she stares at him surprised, and then she tries to twist herself away, screaming, begging, pleading, but she can’t move.

Again with the "For a moment ... and then" thing. Maybe, "She stares at him for a moment, surprised. Then she twists herself away"? That doesn't quite convey the drama of her struggling to get away; but it's something slightly different.

For a couple of minutes, he just stares at her from the top, watching her huddle down protectively. Then he comes down, step by step, each footstep rattling her heart so much that she thinks she will die...

Again with the "for a couple of minutes ... then" thing. You see what I mean?

First, he nudges her with his foot and then he checks her pulse.

...and again. I think you can just skip the "First", so "He nudges her with his foot and then checks her pulse." Or better yet, insert another verb, a transition-y one so you don't need 'then'. Like, "He nudges her with his foot, kneels, checks her pulse."

For a minute, he watches her, his eyes filled with regret. Then, carefully, he picks her up and cradles her in his arms.

And again.

She tries to move, tries to tell him what happened, tries to tell him that the fauns are better than he is, and they would always be better, but as she does, pain erupts in her lungs and she can’t breathe can’t breathe can’t breathe...

It should be "they will always be better".

And I'm glad that you kept the "can't breathe can't breathe can't breathe" without inserting commas as someone else suggested. That adds breaks, as in breaths, as in completely destroys the effect.

“You’ll be off the morphine soon,” he says, tying off her arm.

The morphine is pretty anachronistic. I'm not sure what they had in ancient Greek but ... research?

With an effort, she stretches out her arm to him, and she can feel his fingers interlocked with hers.

This should be "she can feel his fingers interlock". Or even interlocking, but "interlocked" doesn't make sense because it doesn't happen until she stretches out her arm.

And her body shakes so badly that she wonders whether she’ll be able to get up at all.

You don't need the "and" — it just makes the sentence longer. In fact, not having it there just varies up the sentences (as the previous one was all "___ and ___ and ___."

Her heartbeat quickens as she turns to the door and stumbles out.

I think "her heartbeat quickens" should be its own little sentence, for the sake of emphasis/general ooomph.

. And her hands are shaking so badly that she thinks her fingernails will fall off.

You don't need that "and" at the beginning, either. Ditto about the sentence variety.

She is petrified and all she can do is stare at him

I think "She is petrified" should be its own sentence here, too. To drive the point home.

The rib next to her heart throbs so loudly that she thinks she is going deaf because of it, yet she can hear him clearly.

The "yet she can hear him clearly" seems awkward here, a little out of place. Maybe make it another sentence?

Her fingers won’t move. She closes them around the doorknob, but her fingers feel limp.

After "her fingers won't move," the "her fingers feel limp" is a tad repetitive. And you've already referenced them in the sentence (as "them"), so you really don't need to specify. I'd suggest just writing, "She closes them around the doorknob, but they are still limp." Or something of the sort.

Grass is at her feet and a wind wisps by, bending the stalks so slightly that it seems like she is in an ocean of green.

Two things: "so slightly" is unnecessary; it just makes the sentence clunkier and we really don't need to know if the stalks are bending slightly or not. It just ruins the prettiness of the sentence here.

Also, the image of bending stalks doesn't really conjure up the ocean. You need a verb here that is more evocative of water. "Rippling the stalks", maybe, or something in a similar vein.

Then a woman, another woman, an unknown woman, comes next to him.

Two things: one, "then" isn't needed. Two: I'd suggest making this sentence into a separate paragraph, to emphasize it and the woman herself.

It only makes her float and as Anesidora watches her, the woman does float, to his side, to her side... and she is so beautiful.

I'd suggest making the "It only makes her float" its very own sentence; when it's in the other sentence, it becomes kind of awkward and clunky.

Her skin is pale but the gold doesn’t overwhelm it and instead warms up her flesh so that it seems to burn with heat and Anesidora wants to press her face into the woman’s soft breasts

I think the "and instead" can be replaced by a dash — the words are unnecessary and bog down the sentence.

But she knows this is impossible and, if Anesidora touched her, her clay fingers would burn until they would harden until only ashes were left.

So this sentence runs on a little too long. "But she knows this is impossible" could be its own sentence and I think you need to specify the woman instead of Anesidora, to make this sentence less confusing. So, "If she touched [the woman, that woman, whatever], her clay fingers would burn until they would harden until only ashes were left." Partly because you've already mentioned Anesidora in the previous sentence, but also because then when you say "her clay fingers", it seems as if said fingers belong to the woman, not Anesidora.

But the stairs were still hard and splinters steal into her knuckles as she slips down the stairs, ever so slowly into the dark cavern below.

"But the steps are so hard."

But he ignores her.

I don't think you need this line. Partly because "but he ignores her" has been used many many times already in the story, partly because he's not really ignoring her, he's just not reacting to her hysteria. And partly because it makes the next line, which already suggests that he is not reacting to her hysteria, all the more powerful.

She only shakes her head, her shoulders collapsing.

No need for "only". Again, you've done a lot of this: "it only makes her float," and "he only nods" (another instance where it could be cut out) and so on. It doesn't add anything to the sentence, either, except an extra word.

She is gone. She is gone.

*

It is hopeless.

I love that ending. It's perfect and heartbreaking and beautiful.

* * *

Okay! I'm done. Hopefully this makes sense. Obviously, you can disregard anything you want; as always, these are suggestions and you can take what you want and leave the rest. If you have any questions or need me to clarify anything, lemme know and I'll try and do my best. This is gorgeous, but you already knew that. : ) I can't say enough nice things about it.

"He yanked himself free and fled to the kitchen where something huddled against the flooded windowpanes. It sighed and wept and tapped continually, and suddenly he was outside, staring in, the rain beating, the wind chilling him, and all the candle darkness inside lost."

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amatuli

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Fri Jul 24, 2009 5:13 am

amatuli says... · Fri Jul 24, 2009 5:13 am

I have to say I think some people on this site are far too anal, I mean I thought I was anal, damn. I love your style, the imagery is awesome, I could see it all in my head and it seemed so real, I don't think you should change anything to your story.

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Snoink

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Fri Jul 24, 2009 8:19 am

Snoink says... · Fri Jul 24, 2009 8:19 am

amatuli wrote:I have to say I think some people on this site are far too anal, I mean I thought I was anal, damn. I love your style, the imagery is awesome, I could see it all in my head and it seemed so real, I don't think you should change anything to your story.

Trust me, when it gets edited, it'll be sooo much more amazing than before. ^_^

Ubi caritas est vera, Deus ibi est.

"The mark of your ignorance is the depth of your belief in injustice and tragedy. What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the Master calls the butterfly." ~ Richard Bach

Moth and Myth <- My comic!

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mkjohns

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Points 1177

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Thu Sep 17, 2009 4:11 pm

mkjohns says... · Thu Sep 17, 2009 4:11 pm

*gaps in awe*

I have no words......

Beautiful.

Amazing.

Inspiring.

Romantic..........What happens to the girl? What happens to the guy? It was very beautiful, though I wish I knew what happened to the characters at the end...you know, after she walks out the door
AGREED
i also am thirsty for more

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squarened

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Points 2109

Reviews 18

Fri Sep 18, 2009 5:15 am

squarened says... · Fri Sep 18, 2009 5:15 am

I would change absolutely nothing. This was breath taking, and so unique. Your prose is very poetic. I love your descriptions. They're so lush and vibrant. I'm in love with them. I would cite lines, and what not, but I couldn't single any one out.
All you need to do is keep writing

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