Watching Mermaids

It’s supposed to be a bright day, the day she arrives back at Port Maddock. The forecast has predicted the whole week to be sunny and Emily imagines it to be one of those days when the air is warm, and honey coloured splashes of light give everyone that soft kind of glow. It’s the same house with white walls and pale pink shutters. The ivy is thicker now, though, and there’s springy moss growing in between the cracks in the paved driveway but everything is still oddly familiar.

‘Could I see your ticket ma’am?’

Golden rays spilling onto dust sheets. Flowing folds of white and dust like snow.

‘Awful weather, isn’t it?’
‘Terrible.’

Everything exactly as it was. Dining table, chairs. Even the family photograph over the fireplace, although, of course, you have to wipe away the dust to see the faces.

‘Going on holiday?’
‘Something like that.’

The rope swing still hanging from the oak tree at the back. The one they made the first year they spent there, swaying gently in the breeze reminiscent of the hours she spent swinging herself higher and higher, leaning backwards and watching the world turn upside down.

‘Lovely. Enjoy your trip.’

Through the back gate and down the path, overgrown, now, with wild flowers and grasses and mushrooms. Dandelions, daisies, forget-me-nots, bluebells, foxgloves and honeysuckle. Beautifully neglected and forgotten, demanding attention.

‘Let me get those bags for you.’

Onto the beach. Salty, sweet sand scattered with oddly shaped driftwood and mermaid’s purse. Crusty seaweed, smooth pebbles, peach swirls, pink scallops. Messages in bottles.

‘Here, I’ll help you get a taxi.’
'Thank you, but really, I'm fine.'
'It's no trouble.'

Rippling, emerald glass and crashing, foaming pearls stretching back and back and back to where they must meet the sky. Melting sun turned to glitter on the waves and a tide that tickles and teases the shore.

‘It’s just this first left here, down at the end of the road.’
'Thank you very much.'


The mermaid’s rock where once, nine years ago, she was sure she saw a glimpse of golden hair and the flash of a metallic blue tail disappearing beneath the surface. There’s a clumsily built sandcastle with a moat and a tiny makeshift flag decorated with shells, just like the ones she used to make...

***

Emily stepped onto the driveway dragging her bags behind her. The drizzle made everything look a cold, fuzzy shade of grey and the dampness began to seep into her thin shoes. The wind drowned out the lull of the waves from the beach behind the house, making her feel even further away from her childhood and what she remembered. Soggy leaves piled up around the porch and the moss peeping through the cracks in the paving was a dull brown. The whole place seemed eerily familiar and alien at the same time. The metal door knob was cold and wet and her fingers slipped clumsily when she tried to turn it.

The rooms inside were cool and dim and the silence muffled. Too heavy and too thick. Too silent. It made her want to scream. The dust sheets were thrown hurriedly over the furniture and the arms of chairs and corners of coffee tables poked out at odd angles making everything look unfinished and forgotten. There was no family photograph above the fireplace, just the old cracked mirror that had broken the day she played catch inside with Peter. She trailed her finger in the dust over and over. Emily, Emily, Emily. It echoed through the walls, less like a name than a shaky, blurred memory belonging to another lifetime.

The back gate was stiff and the long, thick grass prevented it from opening properly so that in the end she climbed over. The wildflowers looked dull and drained and the grass came up past her hips and clung to her, soaking her jeans and trying to pull her back. The woods were thicker than she remembered and left her wondering a few times if she had lost her way.

The beach was the only thing that was left unchanged. The magic that was lost to the house was retained and preserved along the small stretch of sand that the rain couldn’t wash away or hide. Even the clouds were whiter, here. So white that it hardly looked like cloud at all and rather like the whole sky had been rubbed out and replaced with something fresh and new.

‘You know, it’s funny, you look just like a girl I used to know.’ The voice behind her startled her and she spun around.
‘Peter!’ He grinned at her. It shocked her how much he had changed before she realized how naïve it was to think he would have remained the same shy boy she used to play with.
‘Took you long enough to come back.’ She scuffed her toe awkwardly in the sand and hesitated for a minute before going over to sit beside him.
‘It’s not easy, you know. This place is...’ she shrugged and trailed off. Peter just nodded and didn’t say anything. ‘So how have you been?’ It was his turn to shrug.
‘Well enough. Things changed a lot after you guys left, though.’ Emily pursed her lips and stared at the sea watching the waves wash in and out up the beach, getting closer and closer. The flat rock was visible just above the surface and the water flicked at it so that it sprayed up and then slid back down again. She smiled.
‘I feel like I’m on mermaid watch.’ Peter followed her gaze to the rock and smiled.
‘Mermaid, Mermaid, where are you today?’
Emily laughed and continued ‘Mermaid, mermaid, come out to play.’ And for a fraction of a moment everything seemed to slot back into place. They fell quiet again and their words were replaced by the sound of the waves. All the memories were hanging in the air around them. They all seemed so solid and so real, yet so faint and thin. Right in front of them but too vague to grasp onto.
‘Do you think I ever really saw that mermaid, Peter?’ He frowned slightly.
‘I don’t know. You really believed you did.’ A wry smile played over his lips. ‘Enough to make me come and sit out here with you every day because you were just so convinced that it would come back.’ Emily opened her mouth to speak and then thought better of it and paused.
‘I’m sorry.’ She said finally.
‘For what?’
‘Everything.’ She hesitated. ‘For leaving, for not coming back. Lots of things.’ Peter nodded.
‘I know.’ Stillness settled around them and they sat looking out onto the horizon like they had done so many times before and the fading light cast faint shadows over their faces. It seemed for a minute, that the world had stopped turning and that they were the only people left. The sky darkened around them and they sat together, afraid to break what was already so fragile and utterly convinced that if they didn’t move, they could keep it that way.

Hey sofi! The title caught my attention so I decided to review! Let's see what you have!

sofi wrote:[s]It’s supposed to be a bright day, the day she arrives back at Port Maddock. The forecast has predicted the whole week to be sunny and Emily imagines it to be one of those days when the air is warm, and honey coloured splashes of light give everyone that soft kind of glow. It’s the same house with white walls and pale pink shutters. The ivy is thicker now, though, and there’s springy moss growing in between the cracks in the paved driveway but everything is still oddly familiar[/s]. None of this seems really necessary. I really disliked the first two sentences so I just thing it'd be better without. However, if you reword the last couple of sentences, it could work. The wording was just too awkward. Too many "has" and "supposed to/predicted to".

‘Could I see your ticket ma’am?’

Golden rays spilling onto dust sheets. Flowing folds of white and dust like snow.

‘Awful weather, isn’t it?’
‘Terrible.’

Everything exactly as it was. Dining table, chairs. Even the family photograph over the fireplace, although, of course, you have to wipe away the dust to see the faces.

‘Going on holiday?’
‘Something like that.’

The rope swing still hanging from the oak tree at the back. The one they made the first year they spent there, swaying gently in the breeze reminiscent of the hours she spent [s]would spend [/s]swinging herself higher and higher, leaning backwards and watching the world turn upside down.

‘Lovely. Enjoy your trip.’

Through the back gate and down the path, overgrown, now, with wild flowers and grasses and mushrooms. Dandelions, daisies, forget-me-nots, bluebells, foxgloves and honeysuckle. Beautifully neglected and forgotten, demanding attention.

‘Let me get those bags for you.’

Onto the beach. Salty, sweet sand scattered with oddly shaped driftwood and mermaid’s purse. Crusty seaweed, smooth pebbles, peach swirls, pink scallops. Messages in bottles.

‘Here, I’ll help you get a taxi.’
'Thank you, but really, I'm fine.'
'It's no trouble.'

Rippling, emerald glass and crashing, foaming pearls stretching back and back and back to where they must meet the sky. Melting sun turned to glitter on the waves and a tide that tickles and teases the shore. I loved this one!

‘It’s just this first left here, down at the end of the road.’


The mermaid’s rock where once, nine years ago, she was sure she saw a glimpse of golden hair and the flash of a blue metallic tail disappearing beneath the surface. There’s a clumsily built sandcastle with a moat and a tiny makeshift flag decorated with shells, just like the ones she used to make[s]...[/s]

Okay, I read through the entire thing and I definitley think you should split this part from the next part. Have the above writing be the prologue and the below writing be the first chapter. It would have a much more poetic feel to the rest of the story. Also, the thing I underlined below I think should go after you say "It's just this first left here, down at the end of the road". It would mimic the rest of your previous flowing writing above.

‘Thank you very much.’ [s]She[/s] Emily [s]handed over a ten pound note and [/s]stepped [s]out[/s] onto the driveway dragging her bags behind her. The drizzle made everything look a cold, fuzzy shade of grey and the dampness began [s]was beginning[/s] to soak through her thin shoes. The sound of the wind drowned out the lull of the waves from the beach behind the house, making her feel even further away from her childhood [s]and what she remembered[/s]. Soggy leaves [s]seemed to [/s]piled up around the porch and the moss peeping through the cracks in the paving was a dull brown. The whole place seemed eerily familiar and alien at the same time. The metal door knob was cold and wet and her fingers slipped clumsily when she tried to turn it.

The rooms inside were cool and dim and the silence muffled. Too heavy and too thick. Too silent. It made her want to scream. The dust sheets were thrown hurriedly over the furniture and the arms of chairs and corners of coffee tables poked out [s]haphazardly [/s]at odd angles making everything look unfinished and forgotten. There was no photograph above the fireplace, just the old cracked mirror that had broken the day she played catch inside with Peter. She trailed her finger in the dust over and over. Emily, Emily, Emily. It echoed through the walls, less like a name than a shaky, blurred memory belonging to another lifetime.

The back gate was stiff and the long, thick grass prevented it from opening properly so that in the end she climbed over. The wildflowers looked dull and drained and the grass came up past her hips and clung to her, soaking her jeans and trying to pull her back. The woods were thicker than she remembered [s]and different [/s]and left her wondering a few times if she had lost her way.

The beach was the only thing that was left unchanged. The magic that was lost to the house was retained and preserved along the small stretch of sand and even the rain couldn’t hide it. Even the clouds were whiter, here. So white that it hardly looked like cloud at all and rather like the whole sky had been rubbed out and replaced with something fresh and new.

‘You know, it’s funny, you look just like a girl I used to know.’ The voice behind her startled her and she spun around.
‘Peter!’ He grinned at her. It shocked her how much he had changed before she realized how childish and naïve it was to think he would have remained the same shy boy she used to play with.
‘Took you long enough to come back.’ She pursed her lips and scuffed her toe awkwardly in the sand and she hesitated for a minute before going over to sit beside him.
‘It’s not easy, you know. This place is...’ she shrugged and trailed off. Peter just nodded and didn’t say anything, ‘so how have you been?’ It was his turn to shrug.
‘Well enough. Things changed a lot after you guys left, though.’ Emily pursed her lips and stared at the sea watching the waves wash in and out up the beach, getting closer and closer. The flat rock was visible just above the surface and the water flicked at it so that it sprayed up and then slid back down again. She smiled.
‘I feel like I’m on mermaid watch.’ Peter followed her gaze to the rock and smiled.
‘Mermaid, Mermaid, where are you today?’ Emily laughed and said
‘Mermaid, mermaid come out to play’ Like she always used to and for a fraction of a moment everything seemed to slot back into place. They fell quiet again and their words were replaced by the sound of the waves. All the memories were hanging in the air around them. They all seemed so solid and so real, yet so faint and thin at the same time. Right in front of them but too vague to grasp onto.
‘Do you think I ever really saw that mermaid, Peter?’ He frowned slightly.
‘I don’t know. You really believed you did.’ A wry smile played over his lips, ‘enough to make me come and sit out here with you every day because you were just so convinced that it would come back.’ She paused.
‘I’m sorry.’ She said.
‘For what?’
‘Everything’ she hesitated, ‘for leaving, for not coming back. Lots of things.’ Peter nodded.
‘I know.’ Stillness settled around them and they sat looking out onto the horizon like they had done so many times before and the fading light cast faint shadows over their faces. It seemed for a minute, that the world had stopped turning and that they were the only people left. The sky darkened around them and they sat together, afraid to break what was already so fragile and utterly convinced that if they didn’t move, they could keep it that way.

Wow! This was great! I loved it! BRAVO!

Overall:

The Good: Your prose and description is absolutley beautiful! You are definitley very good at describing the details.
I also loved the general idea of the story! It was very original!


Stuff You Could Work On:

The Beginning: The first paragraph is definitley not reflective at all of your talent as a writer. Once I read through the whole thing and I went back to look at the first paragraph, it was as though the ending areas of the story and the beginning were written by two different people. I would definitley reword the first paragraph if I were you to capture the readers attention more. The rest of your italics are wonderful, just improve upon the first one.

Other than that, this was absolutley wonderful! Great Job! Good luck with editing it! PM me if you have any questions!

Hey scasha!

Thank you so much for reviewing this, I'm glad you enjoyed it What you edited sounds so much better so thank you!

And have a good christmas

Sofi.

Hello Sofi, I will be your friendly neighborhood reviewer for tonight.

So, I did like the first part of this piece, when you switched back and forth between stream of consciousness in italics and dialogue in regular type. It was different and it worked well; in fact, it had a sort of poetic feel to it.

I didn't enjoy the second half as much though. I think this was because you dangled a wonderful way of writing in front of us and then snatched it away. Consider rewriting all of this passage so that it is like the first part. That would make for a beautiful piece.

The rooms inside were cool and dim and the silence muffled. Too heavy and too thick. Too silent.

Consider changing that second "silent" to quiet. You used silence already.

All in all, this was a very good piece, and I did enjoy reading it. Again, consider rewriting the second part in the same style as the first. If you have any questions or comments PM me. Good luck with this.

Hi, sofi! Of course I'll review this for you. Sorry it's taken so long, though.

I enjoyed the first part. Like Conrad said, it has some sort of poetic touch to it, and it was really beautiful. I'd feel stupid trying to critique it, so I'll focus mainly on the second part. Only thing I'd ask you to change was this:

and the flash of a blue metallic tail

It'd be better as "metallic blue", since it describes the colour. I'm pretty sure you didn't mean the tail to be made of metal.

Emily stepped onto the driveway dragging her bags behind her. The drizzle made everything look a cold, fuzzy shade of grey and the dampness began to soak through her thin shoes. Dampness soaking? Maybe so, but consider changing it to "and her feet started to feel the dampness" or something. The sound of the wind drowned out the lull of the waves "the sound of the - the lull of the" makes it sound repetitive from the beach behind the house, making her feel even further away from her childhood and what she remembered. That "what she remembered seems out of place, try to make it connect more with the sentence and the idea. Soggy leaves piled up around the porch and the moss peeping through the cracks in the paving was a dull brown. The whole place seemed eerily familiar and alien at the same time. The metal door knob was cold and wet and her fingers slipped clumsily when she tried to turn it. Nice touch.


The rooms inside were cool and dim and the silence muffled. Too heavy and too thick. Too silent. It made her want to scream. The dust sheets were thrown hurriedly over the furniture and the arms of chairs and corners of coffee tables poked out at odd angles making everything look unfinished and forgotten. There was no photograph above the fireplace, Why should there be a photograph? Or do you mean photographs? just the old cracked mirror that had broken the day she played catch inside with Peter. Give us more info about Peter. Is he a childhood friend? She trailed her finger in the dust over and over. Emily, Emily, Emily. It echoed through the walls, less like a name than a shaky, blurred memory belonging to another lifetime.

How can the name echo? No one says it. Oh well, it's just me and my constant need for explanations.


The back gate was stiff and the long, thick grass prevented it from opening properly so that in the end she climbed over. The wildflowers looked dull and drained and the grass came up past her hips and clung to her, soaking her jeans and trying to pull her back. The woods were thicker than she remembered and left her wondering a few times if she had lost her way.


The beach was the only thing that was left unchanged. The magic that was lost to the house was retained and preserved along the small stretch of sand and even the rain couldn’t hide it. Even the clouds were whiter,why the comma? here. Two "even"s in a row make this repetitive, again. So white that it hardly looked like cloud at all and rather like the whole sky had been rubbed out and replaced with something fresh and new.


‘You know, it’s funny, you look just like a girl I used to know.’ "You look familiar" would sound better, it's not so in-your-face. The voice behind her startled her and she spun around.

‘Peter!’ He grinned at her. It shocked her how much he had changed before she realized how childish and naïve ditch either one of the adjectives, they mean the same thing, so another one is redundant it was to think he would have remained the same shy boy she used to play with.

‘Took you long enough to come back.’ She pursed her lips and scuffed her toe awkwardly in the sand and she hesitated for a minute before going over to sit beside him. Where are they sitting?

‘It’s not easy, you know. This place is...’ she shrugged and trailed off. Peter just nodded and didn’t say anything,period instead of a comma ‘[s]s[/s]So how have you been?’ It was his turn to shrug.

‘Well enough. Things changed a lot after you guys left, though.’ Emily pursed her lips Again? Could she do something else than purse her lips? and stared at the sea watching the waves wash in and out up the beach, getting closer and closer. The flat rock was visible just above the surface and the water flicked at it so that it sprayed up and then slid back down again. She smiled.

‘I feel like I’m on mermaid watch.’ Peter followed her gaze to the rock and smiled.

‘Mermaid, Mermaid, where are you today?’ Start a new paragraph here. Emily laughed and [s]said[/s]continued:

‘Mermaid, mermaidcomma come out to playperiod’ [s]Like she always used to and[/s](we don't need that info) For a fraction of a moment everything seemed to slot back into place. They fell quiet again and their words were replaced by the sound of the waves. All the memories were hanging in the air around them. They all seemed so solid and so real, yet so faint and thin [s]at the same time[/s]. Right in front of themcomma but too vague to grasp onto.

‘Do you think I ever really saw that mermaid, Peter?’ He frowned slightly.

‘I don’t know. You really believed you did.’ A wry smile played over his lips,period instead of a comma ‘Enough to make me come and sit out here with you every day because you were just so convinced that it would come back.’ She paused. Don't you mean "he"?

‘I’m sorry,’ [s]S[/s]she said.

‘For what?’

‘Everythingperiod’ She hesitated, ‘For leaving, for not coming back. Lots of things.’ Peter nodded.

‘I know.’ Stillness settled around them and they sat looking out onto the horizon like they had done so many times before and the fading light cast faint shadows over their faces. It seemed for a minute, that the world had stopped turning and that they were the only people left. The sky darkened around them and they sat together, afraid to break what was already so fragile and utterly convinced that if they didn’t move, they could keep it that way.

Overall:

A beautiful story. You could've given us more information about their age, why she came back, where the beach was, and actually almost everything. Although, I must admit that the mysteriosity is somehow attractive. You have an overall good piece here, and it was nice to read.

Thanks for the read!


Demeter xxx

It’s supposed to be a bright day, the day she arrives back at Port Maddock. The forecast has predicted the whole week to be sunny and Emily imagines it to be one of those days when the air is warm, and honey coloured splashes of light give everyone that soft kind of glow. It’s the same house with white walls and pale pink shutters. The ivy is thicker now, though, and there’s springy moss growing in between the cracks in the paved driveway but everything is still oddly familiar.

‘Could I see your ticket ma’am?’

Golden rays spilling onto dust sheets. Flowing folds of white and dust like snow.

‘Awful weather, isn’t it?’
‘Terrible.’

Everything exactly as it was. Dining table, chairs. Even the family photograph over the fireplace, although, of course, you have to wipe away the dust to see the faces.

‘Going on holiday?’
‘Something like that.’

The rope swing still hanging from the oak tree at the back. The one they made the first year they spent there, swaying gently in the breeze reminiscent of the hours she spent swinging herself higher and higher, leaning backwards and watching the world turn upside down.

‘Lovely. Enjoy your trip.’

Through the back gate and down the path, overgrown, now, with wild flowers and grasses and mushrooms. Dandelions, daisies, forget-me-nots, bluebells, foxgloves and honeysuckle. Beautifully neglected and forgotten, demanding attention.

‘Let me get those bags for you.’

Onto the beach. Salty, sweet sand scattered with oddly shaped driftwood and mermaid’s purse. Crusty seaweed, smooth pebbles, peach swirls, pink scallops. Messages in bottles.

‘Here, I’ll help you get a taxi.’
'Thank you, but really, I'm fine.'
'It's no trouble.'

Rippling, emerald glass and crashing, foaming pearls stretching back and back and back to where they must meet the sky. Melting sun turned to glitter on the waves and a tide that tickles and teases the shore.

‘It’s just this first left here, down at the end of the road.’
'Thank you very much.'


The mermaid’s rock where once, nine years ago, she was sure she saw a glimpse of golden hair and the flash of a blue metallic tail disappearing beneath the surface. There’s a clumsily built sandcastle with a moat and a tiny makeshift flag decorated with shells, just like the ones she used to make...

Long quote, rather large problem: talking heads. I lost track of who was talking come line three of dialogue, and we have no idea where she is. She starts off at a train station, then gets picked up by a taxi, but what does the surrounding road look like? Is she exited about seeing the beach again? When did she live there, why is she going back? This opening could be seriously expanded and still include those really nice flashbacks.

The rooms inside were cool and dim and the silence muffled. Too heavy and too thick. Too silent. It made her want to scream. The dust sheets were thrown hurriedly over the furniture and the arms of chairs and corners of coffee tables poked out at odd angles making everything look unfinished and forgotten. There was no photograph above the fireplace, just the old cracked mirror that had broken the day she played catch inside with Peter. She trailed her finger in the dust over and over. Emily, Emily, Emily. It echoed through the walls, less like a name than a shaky, blurred memory belonging to another lifetime.

The back gate was stiff and the long, thick grass prevented it from opening properly so that in the end she climbed over. The wildflowers looked dull and drained and the grass came up past her hips and clung to her, soaking her jeans and trying to pull her back. The woods were thicker than she remembered and left her wondering a few times if she had lost her way.

I thought the gate was at the front of the house, not the back. That's something a little confusing with your description; it doesn't show scale and order of objects.

I won't quote everything, but your dialogue tags are off. When you change person (Emily said this, Peter did this, said that, ect) you start a new paragraph for that person. It makes things much less confusing.

I'm curious, is there more to this? If there is I'd like to read it. It looks like an interesting story.

I liked this a lot. Go mermaids!

The whole beginning I was wondering about the scenery and sometimes even who was talking. Maybe a little more description, and although I realise you don't want to spoil the (exceptional) imagery created by the italicised text, you can put it into the dialogue, believe it or not!

‘Could I see your ticket ma’am?’

Just a little grammar stuff, there should be a comma after ticket.

‘You know, it’s funny, you look just like a girl I used to know.’

Where did he come from? I was thinking that Emily had the key to this place. Did Peter sneak in when she opened the door? If so, how did he know it was open? I'm totally lost as to how he just appeared here. More explanation please!

‘I feel like I’m on mermaid watch.’ Peter followed her gaze to the rock and smiled.

‘Mermaid, Mermaid, where are you today?’

There shouldn't be a gap between "smiled." and "'Mermaid, Mermaid". It is misleading because I think that Emily is speaking now, and then she "continues" from what I thought was her own speech. Very confusing!

Beautiful beginning, beautiful middle, gorgeous end. A few holes here and there, but overall great work!!

Hi Sofi! Looks like this has already been torn apart and nit-picked, so my comments mayn't be as helpful as I'd hoped. I'll focus on overall comments, because of the above.

It’s supposed to be a bright day, the day she arrives back at Port Maddock.

I don't know why, but the colloquial use of abbreviating verbs with an apostrophe always seems to make pieces kind of flippant. Which is alright if you're not writing a sad piece, but since you are, maybe write, "It is supposed". I don't know, it's just personal preference really.

It’s the same house with white walls and pale pink shutters.

Ditto about the abbreviation thing. And abstract-ness is great, but maybe be a tweensy bit more specific. Like maybe say, 'In front of her is the same house,' or something like that. Because otherwies the natural flow of this piece is somehow disrupted.

The ivy is thicker now, though, and there’s springy moss growing in between the cracks in the paved driveway but everything is still oddly familiar.

To avoid repetition of 'in', nix the first 'in' before 'between.' so it reads, 'and there's springy moss growing between the cracks'. If that makes any sense. ^ ^

‘Could I see your ticket ma’am?’

Comma after 'ticket', to be grammatically correct.

Golden rays spilling onto dust sheets. Flowing folds of white and dust like snow.

I love this poetic kind of narrative, I use it myself quite a lot. The second sentence isn't that clear however, I think the use of a comma after 'white' would alleviate that.

‘Awful weather, isn’t it?’
‘Terrible.’

Minor point - but there should be a space between these two lines. ^_^

Everything exactly as it was.

Rephrase: Everything looked exactly as it used to be.
Your original phrasing was a bit clunky.

Dining table, chairs.

Using two examples makes it seem a bit redundant, I think a third example would even it up and make the flow better. Maybe, 'The dining table, the chairs, the cupboard." Something like that.

Even the family photograph over the fireplace, although, of course, you have to wipe away the dust to see the faces.

The use of 'you' makes it too colloquial and breaks away from the usual narrative, as you're suddenly reverting to second person and addressing the reader.

‘Going on holiday?’
‘Something like that.’

Again, this is me being OCD-ish, but there should be a space between these two lines.

The rope swing still hanging from the oak tree at the back.

This passive style is annoying me a bit, maybe slip in a 'was' before 'still', to please grammar Nazis such as myself? Actually, you don't have to. Just ignore me. ^ ^ I'm just slightly...obsessive.

The one they made the first year they spent there, swaying gently in the breeze reminiscent of the hours she spent swinging herself higher and higher, leaning backwards and watching the world turn upside down.

Hmm...bit of a run-on sentence here. Put a fullstop after 'breeze' and capitalise 'reminiscent' to make it a new sentence.

Through the back gate and down the path, overgrown, now, with wild flowers and grasses and mushrooms.

The two commas on either side of 'now' are redundant and completely disrupt the flow; nix 'em.

Melting sun turned to glitter on the waves and a tide that tickles and teases the shore.

To stay in keeping with your tense, 'turn' should be 'turning'.

Overall Comments

[b] I

Ooh, I really did like this. It was sweet, concise and nostalgic, bringing us back to childhood days. There were some beautiful descriptive moments, though you can tend to go a bit too abstract and break off your tenses. You also need to pay attention to grammar and paragraphing when a new speaker is introduced in a dialogue. Oh - I liked the dialogue snatches for some reason; they were short and sweet, and basically just seemed quite authentic. The ending wasn't as strong as it could have been, I think it was lacking a bit in originality - but I'm only being harsh because I know you're an excellent writer, so I need to tear this apart as much as I can. All in all, it was a lovely read.

[b] II

Whilst the description, dialogue, and flow of this piece were lovely, I think the characterisation could have been a bit more evident. I know - trust me - I know how difficult it can be to inject your character's personality into a piece, and again, I'm only being harsh because of how good you are. Had you been a worse writer, I wouldn't have bothered pointing it out. But since you have no eensy problems to work on, I'm trying to shred this to pieces, which is incredibly difficult because of its quality. Anyway, I'll stop rambling.

Basically, I think you need to make the main character a bit more 3D. Maybe lenghten the short dialogue snatches at the beginning, adding in dialogue tags and her reactions, so we can see how your MC reacts with other people. The dialogue with your MC and Peter at the end is an ideal place to do this as well. Never underestimate the power of dialogue in conveying character, but it must contribute to the main focus of the story - don't just use it to pad out your characters. Every word you put into the mouth of your characters must contribute to revealing your theme ... if it doesn't, be ruthless and cut it.

Appearance - to give your reader a visual understanding of the character.
Action - show the reader what kind of person your character is, by describing actions rather than simply listing adjectives.
Thought - Bring the reader into your character's mind, to show them your character's unexpressed memories, fears, and hopes.

[b] III

I noticed that, though some of the description was rather pretty, not all of it was actually related, or needed. For example, the dust sheets at the beginning. As you write, make sure that every word is related to this theme. It's tempting to use your short story to show off your talents at characterisation, descriptive writing, dialogue or whatever ... But every excess word is a word that dilutes the impact of your story. You also might need to give a bit more detail on the setting, and explain why the MC is there. There wasn't a lot of explaining in this story. Being vague is fine, but you do need to tell the reader a bit. Because you have such a limited number of words to convey your message, you must choose your settings carefully ... there's no room for free-loaders in a short story!

Anyway, thanks for the read, and good luck!

-Sarah
xxx