The Story, The Song, and The Picture (chapter two)

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Chapter Two:

The summer heat is unbearable. Glen Windley sat on the backseat of the Ford, his eyes closed. Sunshine beat down at the car windows, making them even hotter. A small bead of sweat rolled down on his face. He opened his eyes and wiped it off with the back of his hand without thinking.

Glen put his headphones on place as he turned on the radio, searching for some music. Mrs. Windley sat on the front seat of the car reading a newspaper, her blue eyes zooming on the pages from left to right like a bee. Mr. Windley is driving the car while humming a tune, his expression looked serious.

Glen looked at his parents. They had been very happy of having a new house, although they really didn’t need one, after all. It was his mother’s idea, who suggested that Glen should meet new friends for the coming school year in his new school.

“NO! I don’t want to go!” Glen yelled when the first time he heard the news.

He shrugged at the thought. Why would his parents transfer him in a new school all of a sudden, when his performance had been good? Well, he didn’t have any girlfriends, nor did he have a crush. Why on earth? He mumbled quietly.

The car made a quick turn to the left, then to the right, and a sharp turn to the left again. It went around corners and a few trees, until it found open space. Then it sped off to a straight highway, sending huge amounts of smoke behind them. Glen was so dizzy he’s like a potato being mashed inside a hot car.

“Are we there yet?” he asked, his head still hurting. “I hate the roads.”

Mrs. Windley answered her in a soft voice as she turned the next page of the newspaper. “Not yet, dear.”

“We’ve been wandering for hours! You reckon we are lost, dad?”

“We’re not lost. The place is just far, that’s all.” His dad replied, eyes focused on the road ahead. Glen closed his eyes and leaned his back on the seat, trying to sleep. He hadn’t think about yet what to expect on their new house.


“Will I like it?” he said, his eyes closed.

“Oh, Glen, you will not like it; you’ll love it,” she said in a dreamy voice. Glen shook his head in disgust.


“Here we are.” Mr. Windley turned to the left again into a small neighborhood. Glen opened his eyes and looked outside the windows.

Melbourne Avenue consists of a few, tall brick houses; each has a wide yard with a tree in front. The sidewalk is wide too, and the houses are very far from each other. “Where are the people?” he wondered. The neighborhood is clean and empty.

“The residents here are all homey people,” his mom whispered. She’s looking over the comics section, smiling. “They prefer to stay inside their houses, than to roam around in this weather like idiots.”

“Here we are,” Mr. Windley repeated, halting the car.

“Well, it’s not that bad,” he said as soon as they stopped in front of their new house. It’s taller and wider than the others, with two apple trees in their front garden. Hedges lined the borders of the house, and flowers of different colors were put on boxes under the huge glass windows.

“Did you like it?” his parents said at once.

Glen was not fooled in an instant. He frowned. “It’s okay, but I like our previous house more.”

~

“Where are you going?” Mrs. Windley asked from the front porch as soon as she saw Glen going outside the house with a guitar on his hand. She’s having a cup of cold coffee, while reading the newspaper.

“I’ll just get some fresh air,” he yelled. “I’m going at the park.”

“Fine,” she said without looking from her newspaper.

Glen walked all the way to the park. Three days after they moved here in Melbourne Avenue, the public park is the only interesting place he found in this boring neighborhood. It was a sunny afternoon, with clouds covering the sun.

A few cars passed by, honking their horns at him. He turned around the corner to take a shortcut, now that he’s a bit familiar with the pathways. Suddenly, he heard a different sound. The sound of piano keys.

“What a beautiful sound,” he thought, feeling a bit lighter. “ I wonder who’s playing it.”

Curious, he raised his head to follow the source. It seems to be coming from an open window nearby. He looked at it, but he can’t see the identity of the player. He wished to see who’s behind that window, but he couldn’t. Well, at least he could hear the music.

Glen paused and stopped to listen a bit longer. He took out his guitar and joined the pianist. He even forgot that he’s going to the park. After the music ended, he gave a loud applause.

“Please come out, the one who played the piano. I want to see you.” Glen called to the window. No answer.

“Please come out.” No answer.

“PLEASE! Come out!” he shouted, thinking how deaf that pianist could be.

A girl appeared from the window, her hands on her hips, looking furious. He glared at Glen with her cold eyes. Annie McMillan slam the window shut, leaving Glen on the sidewalk.

~
Sometimes B sharp,
Never B flat,
Always B natural.

I love writing songs and listening to music and books and daydreaming and coffee at five in the morning.




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Hello, Again. Ugh, I know, not this girl again. Hahaha. I'll be reviewing this second chapter now, since I liked the first one so much.

Glen put his headphones in place as he turned on the radio,

Mr. Windley is driving the car while humming a tune, his expression looked serious.

That's a funny thought. Someone humming while with a serious look on their face.
NO! I don’t want to go!”

No need for the all caps.
Why would his parents transfer him in a new school all of a sudden, when his performance had been good?

There isn't a need for that comma.
Glen was so dizzy, he was like a potato being mashed inside a hot car.

Mrs. Windley answered him in a soft voice...

He hadn’t thought about yet what to expect on their new house.

Where are the people? he wondered.

Thoughts should be italicized, not in quotation marks.
Do you like it?”

“It’s okay, but I liked our previous house more.”

“I’m going to the park.”

“Please come out, the one who played the piano. I want to see you.” Glen called to the window.

That's very pretty out going for anyone to do, especially in completely new surroundings. Is this a part of his personality?

Overall:
This chapter was nice, though I felt like it just needed to be written to introduce Glen; more of a stepping stone rather than a good, stand-alone piece by itself. I thought it was quite strange for Glen to have wanted to see the pianist so badly, also. And again, I felt like that part had to have been done just so the two characters could meet, rather than the act reflecting Glen's own character. With grammar, your tenses get a bit mixed up when it comes to a large part of the dialogue (sp?).
House: People interest me. Conversations don't.
Foreman: Maybe because conversations go both ways.
House & Foreman: Like Thirteen.




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Hey darkangel_05!
I saw your signature and I thought it was hilarious that you asked if people wanted a review and then gave a link to your story.

This is a well written piece, but I must say that it is a bit awkward to start playing a piece with someone who you don't know. Very few people would join in with their guitar if they heard a piano playing from inside a house in a very (or so it seems) high class neighborhood. If you want Glen to do that, you should build up his character to show readers that he isn't afraid of confrontation and is not shy.

He glared at Glen with her cold eyes. Annie McMillan slam the window shut, leaving Glen on the sidewalk.

Give a description of what she looks like!

Other than that, this is all I have to say! Good luck in your writing!!
-SodapopLunchbox
I hope you like the stars I stole for you,
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I'll be the brightest,
You'll see!



As I grow older, I pay less attention to what men say. I just watch what they do.
— Andrew Carnegie