A short story

Bundle of Sorrow


The dirty, dusty windows of Brine street were so thick with grime that passers-by could hardly tell weather the inside lights of buildings were on or off, not that Brine got passers-by.
Residents of "the right side of town" said that wadding through three inches of sewage was not their idea of fun and the stench was enough to make your tongue curl back inside your throat. Yet Brine did not seem to notice. The one who noticed least was the teenage girl who sat upon the only unbroken park swing. Even now, deep into the night when the paint-peeled houses looked most sinister, she showed little sign of caring.
The swing had been wrapped several times around the upper frame so that her feet dangled just above the dusty floor, the swing beside her was no more than two chains swinging simultaneously in the breeze its seat lay some feet away graffiti-ed with obscene doodles.
The girl herself seemed to fit in perfectly with her surroundings.
Her black hair hung at shoulder length dead and dull.
Her brown eyes that could have once been filled with a glittering light were now pits of hopelessness, despair and even fear.
The white shirt she was wearing was far to big for her even with the sleeves rolled up and she was covered in blood and bloody hand prints. Her jeans were torn and her pumps worn through from walking a great distance.
At her feet a blood stained bundle of cloth, it lay still and silent.
The sky filled with brilliant light as fireworks exploded above her, the reds, greens, blues and purples rained down. They made the stars look like rocks among diamonds.
The girl looked down upon the bundle, her eyes glazed with tears. The face of a newborn peered out, his tiny fingers closed upon the edge of the cloth. She stroked his cheek.
"My baby new year." She whispered.
Then, without a second glance, she leaped up and sprinted into the night.
Brine remained silent.

The dirty, dusty windows of Brine street (maybe capitalize "street"?) were so thick with grime that passers-by could hardly tell weather (whether)the inside lights of buildings were on or off, not that Brine got (many?) passers-by.The initial description is good, nice sense of atmosphere.
Residents of "the right side of town" said that wadding through three inches of sewage was not their idea of fun and the stench was enough to make your tongue curl back inside your throat. Yet Brine (Brine residents, perhaps? The personification seems a little out of place here.) did not seem to notice. The one who noticed least was the teenage girl who sat upon the only unbroken park swing. Even now, deep into the night when the paint-peeled houses looked most sinister, she showed little sign of caring. I like the style in this paragraph, it's very nicely done.
The swing had been wrapped several times around the upper frame so that her feet dangled just above the dusty floor, the swing beside her was no more than two chains swinging simultaneously in the breeze (new sentence here) its seat lay some feet away graffiti-ed with obscene doodles.
The girl herself seemed to fit in perfectly with her surroundings. ("The surroundings" would sound better, otherwise there's too many "her"s.)
Her black hair hung at shoulder length dead and dull.
Her brown eyes that could have once been filled with a glittering light were now pits of hopelessness, despair and even fear. (Nice!)
The white shirt she was wearing was far to big for her even with the sleeves rolled up and she was covered in blood and bloody hand prints. Her jeans were torn and her pumps worn through from walking a great distance. "A great distance" sounds a bit documentary-like for a story. try "walking for so long" or something simmilar.
At her feet, a blood stained bundle of cloth, it lay still and silent.(leave out the "it", the sentence would flow better.)
The sky filled with brilliant light as fireworks exploded above her, the reds, greens, blues and purples rained down. They made the stars look like rocks among diamonds.
The girl looked down upon the bundle, her eyes glazed with tears. The face of a newborn peered out, his tiny fingers closed upon the edge of the cloth. She stroked his cheek.
"My baby new year." She whispered. (the expression is "new year baby", it might sound better.
Then, without a second glance, she leaped up and sprinted into the night.
Brine remained silent.

Overall, a really good concept and you made it work very well. The writing style needs a bit of sorting out, to make your workds flow better, but other than that it was excellent.

Heyy, I'm randomly looking around for pieces of work that haven't been critiqued much, and as this has only one review as of yet, I figured you might want another, so here I am!! *waves* I haven't read the above review as I'm too lazy to do that =P. All my comments/edits etc will be in bold, and I will talk you through my review at the end. I hope this helps you out!! (:

LlamaDuck wrote:Bundle of Sorrow


The dirty, dusty windows of Brine Street were so thick with grime that passers-by could hardly tell [s]weather[/s] whether the inside lights of buildings were on or off, not that Brine Street ever got passers-by [you've already used this term once too close together and referring to the same thing. To avoid repetition, try replacing it with something like: people walking by his___ [description] house. What do you think?].
Residents of "the right side of town" said that wa[s]d[/s]ding through three inches of sewage was not their idea of fun and the stench was enough to make your tongue curl back inside your throat. Yet Brine [I'm confused - is 'Brine' th name of the street or a person? If it's just the name of the street, your use of personification is slightly out of place and confusing] did not seem to notice. The one who noticed least was the teenage girl who always sat upon the only unbroken park swing. Even now, deep into the night when the paint-peeled [what do you mean by this? Do you mean that the paint is peeling off all the house? Try showing instead of telling, also, to make this clearer] houses looked most sinister, she showed little sign of caring.
The swing had been wrapped several times around the upper frame so that her feet dangled just above the dusty floor, the swing beside her was no more than two chains swinging [there seems to be a lot of use of the word 'swing' (even in different variations), you could replace the verb 'swinging' with something else, and instead of saying the swing beside her. you could say instead, the second one beside her, as we'll know what you're talking about and it'll avoid repetition (: ] simultaneously in the breeze its seat lay some feet away graffiti-ed with obscene doodles. [I would put this piece as a second sentence - and also try rephrasing it as it sounds slightly awkward]
The girl herself seemed to fit in perfectly with her surroundings[I have deleted the NP and replaced the full stop with a semi colon>>]; her black hair hung at shoulder length dead and dull. [Deleted NP again >>] Her [try and start the sentence differently to the previous one] brown eyes that could have once been filled with a glittering light were now pits of hopelessness, despair [comma] and even fear.
The white shirt she was wearing was far too big for her[comma] even with the sleeves rolled up and she was covered in blood and bloody hand prints. Her jeans were torn and her pumps worn through from walking a great distance.
At her feet a blood stained bundle of cloth, it lay still and silent. [This doesn't make sense - try rephrasing]
The sky filled with brilliant lights as fireworks exploded above her,[replace with semi colon] the reds, greens, blues and purples rained down. They made the stars look like rocks among diamonds [love the use of simile here - very different. Great job (: ].
The girl looked down upon the bundle, her eyes glazed with tears. The face of a newborn peered out, his tiny fingers closed upon the edge of the cloth. She stroked his cheek.
"My baby, it's new year.[replace with comma]" she whispered.
Then, without a second glance towards the bloody bundle [?], she leaped up and sprinted into the night.
Brine Street remained silent.

Last Minute Views
The Girl
Now, this is just a small suggestion, which you can choose to ignore, as this is you're own work and you're entitled to do it how you want, but I think that this chapter would be made so much better if you made it more personal to the girl and from her POV. I still think you should stick with the third person, as it works really well, but I think that this chapter is slightly limited, and with her perspective added into it, could make it so much more interesting. It's just a small suggestion, but what do you think?

Wording
Occasionally your wording was hard to understand, so try reading your work aloud, as it helps to give you a different perspective towards your work and spot any places which don't sound quite right.

Overall Comments
This was a good piece and the way you've ended it is brilliant and will really capture the reader's attention and want them to carry on reading more of your novel, which is great!! If you just brush up on the few things I've pointed out to you, and it will make this a lot more easy reading (: .
I really hope this review helped you out, and if you want any more help or have any further questions regarding this critique, please don't hesitate to PM me!!

Good luck with this piece, and keep writing!!
--Lucyy xx

Interesting, definitely created a mood and has a feel. Great descriptiveness. The flow(as short as it may be) seems to be very much smooth. Punctuation grammar and the sort isn't perfect but that stuff can be worked through. It seemed too short, to really get a feel for any kind of a story though. To sum it up a girl leaves a baby on the bad side of town. Not a whole lot to that. Happens too many times everyday anyways. The piece might make a great part to a lengthier story but as it is seemed like a lonely sapling on an expansive plain.