A Day in the Life: A One, Paralyzed Man

The sun dribbles in ever so slowly through the cracks the nurse has left in my blinds. Cautiously, it creeps up to the backs of my eyelids; I feel the warmth with an inner smile. I open my eyes with an inward start and sigh: nothing has changed. I lay here, immobile of my own devices. My eyes wiggle and dart about inside this seemingly plastered body. I must wait till the nurse comes.
I am completely paralyzed. I can not move. I am a cripple. A distorted body with no function save my eyes. Today is my weekly walk through the park. Instead of being left alone with my thoughts, (my family stopped visiting a year ago when they realized I wasn't going to get better and they could no longer bear the sight of me), I get to go gaze, seemingly endlessly, at the old women and happy children that walk by me. That run by me. That leap. That bring their music and dance. That is what I miss most. The dancing. I have memories of my wife and me dancing. Dancing to no music, just her, and me, and a hummed tune. Just us. Some days I can lay here and just think about dancing for hours on end.
The nurse is late; my eyes dart over to the clock. Definitely late. I wonder what is taking so long. I need my walk today. I crave it. This once a week's solace is the thing that keeps me sane. It keeps my marbles in my head. I keeps me from getting lost in the memories. That's really all I have now: memories. And even some of those are starting to fade away. Like waking from a dream, all I can remember is a lullaby.
The sun, brighter in my eyes, then dimmer by degrees, as it makes its way through the blinds, warns me to the passing of time without having to look at the clock. I guess that I must have been wrong: maybe my walk wasn't today. Maybe it was tomorrow. The sun is setting and I am still in my world of memories. I think to myself that if there was a way to let the mouths of the completely paralyzed move for a week, there would be some of the most hauntingly beautiful wisdom dripping from utterances of their lips.
The sun is gone now, and my sterile room plunges into darkness once again. I cannot even tell the difference between waking and sleeping anymore. It has all blended together as one. And truth be told, I don't care. All I would like is my walk.

Very impressive, I must say. Very haunting and a fun, quick read. As far as story goes, I love the stream of consciousness narrative, and I love how the main character just seems to accept that it isn't time for his walk. I really only have a few comments about the mechanics of the piece.

TheSailor wrote:The sun dribbles(a) in ever so slowly through the cracks the nurse has left in my blinds. Cautiously, it creeps up to the backs of my eyelids(b); I feel the warming sensation with an inner smile. I open my eyes with an inward start(c) and sigh: nothing has changed. I lay here, immobile of my own devices. My eyes wiggle and dart about inside this seemingly plastered body. I must wait till the nurse comes to get me.

(a) "Dribbles" is kind of an odd word. Like the sun is dripping from the ceiling. Try something like "creeps," or "peeks." Make the sun a solid, not a liquid.
(b) "eyelids" is one work. I fixed it here.
(c) I don't know what you mean by "inward start" here. Do you mean the sun jolted him awake?

(my family stopped visiting a year ago with they realized I wasn't going to get better and they could no longer bare(d) the sight of me)

(d) I believe the word is "bear." "Bare" is when you're nekkid.

It keeps my marbles in my head. It keeps me from getting lost in the memories. That's really all I have now. Memories...(e) And even some of those are starting to fade away. Like the waking from a dream, all I can remember is a lullaby.

(e) Just a cosmetic thing. You don't really need the ellipses here.

The sun, brighter in my eyes, then dimmer by degrees, as it makes its way through the blinds, warns me to the passing of time without having to look at the clock.(f) I guess that I must have been wrong: maybe my walk wasn't today. Maybe it was tomorrow. The sun is setting and I am still in my world of memories and philosophy. I think to myself that if there was a way to let the mouths of the completely paralyzed move for a week, there would be some of the most hauntingly beautiful wisdom drip from utterances of their lips.(g)

(f) I think the aside would be better suited in an em dash: "The sun--brighter in my eyes... the blinds--warns me to... the clock."
(g) I just love this line. Thought I'd point it out.

The sun is gone now, and my sterile room plunges into darkness once again. I cannot even tell the difference between waking and sleeping anymore. It has all blended together as one. And truth be told, I don't care. All I would like, is my walk.

Perfect ending (except for that comma I crossed out). I'm not sure why I like it, which I guess is good. I think I appreciate the acceptance of the main character of his fate. Obviously, he's been in this condition for a long time, if he's accepted the fact that his family has quit visiting, too. He just wants a walk. That's the only think he has in this artificial life of his. Give the man his damn walk so he's not just lying there!

Very fine piece of work. I'm giving it a star because I really enjoyed it.
kf

Hi there!

I really enjoyed this; it's written beautifully. *like*

The sun dribbles in ever so slowly through the cracks the nurse has left in my blinds.

Although I love the idea of the sun dribbling through the cracks, I don't think that this is the best first line. It does't intruige straight away; maybe because it's too long. Rephrase?

(my family stopped visiting a year ago with they realized I wasn't going to get better and they could no longer bare the sight of me)

I guess you mean when.
Also, that seems a little harsh... Maybe they could stop visiting for a deeper reason.

I wonder what is taking so long. I need my walk today. I crave it. This once a week's solstice is the think that keeps me sane. It keeps my marbles in my head. I keeps me from getting lost in the memories.

*thing
*it
(:

Like the waking from a dream, all I can remember is a lullaby.

I'd get rid of the 'the' here. It would make the sentence more smooth.

I think to myself that if there was a way to let the mouths of the completely paralyzed move for a week, there would be some of the most hauntingly beautiful wisdom drip from utterances of their lips.

Pure beauty. Love it.
However, there is something that doesn't sound quite right. I'd change 'drip' to 'dripping'.

and I my sterile room plunges into darkness once again.

All I would like, is my walk.

A good last sentence, but make sure to take out the comma.

Overall:

Good job, just make sure to read carefully over your work - there were a few spelling errors. I think it would be good to know a little more about the MC as well - maybe just hint on how long he's been paralysed, if he has any children...

Overall, this is a very enjoyable piece. It makes for a great read.

Keep writing, and hope I helped!

~Lilicia

Overall, this was pretty good. Mature and dignified.

So let's get into the nitty gritty.

Get a better title. A title that resonates with what your piece is about. There's a very stark contrast between the maturity you strive for in your prose and the elementary title. So give it some thought. Given your plot, it's hard not to draw comparisons to similar stories...but take for example the title of "The Diving Bell and the Butterfly," a true story about a cripple who can only blink his left eye. It's a very poetic image, even if you don't know what it's referring to. But the "Diving Bell" is a huge, clunky diving suit to which he likens himself to being trapped in, floating in water, unable to figure out up or down and slowly running out of time. But the "Butterfly" is his spirit, what he hopes to accomplish with just his meager blinking.

So give it some thought.

I feel the warming sensation

"I feel the warmth" is much smoother and prettier.

...with an inner smile. I open my eyes with an inward start...

"inner" and "inward" are too close together so that it's awkward. Try another word.

and sigh

I've never been crippled so I wouldn't know, but the action of sighing seems too outward and animated for a completely paralyzed man. I imagine the diaphragm and breathing process to be pretty much automatic and even choppy at times...not to have enough control for a sigh.

I must wait till the nurse comes to get me.

"I must wait till the nurse comes." is a good enough sentence. You don't need the clunky "to get me."

(my family stopped visiting a year ago with they realized I wasn't going to get better and they could no longer bare the sight of me)

This sentence is too throwaway and "ehh, oh well" for such a (probably) devastating insult. Linger on this more. Give it more depth. At least let your character say how he feels about that and about them.

at the happy children and old women that walk by me. That run by me. That leap. That bring their music and dance. That is what I miss most. The dancing.

This is good. You might want to rethink the mention of "old women" since that's the last idea we have in our mind when we get to the next sentences. Then we're imagining old women running, leaping, and dancing. Kind of comical, almost.

This once a week's solstice is the think that keeps me sane

Proofread. "Solace" is the word you want. And "thing", not "think."

The sun, brighter in my eyes, then dimmer by degrees, as it makes its way through the blinds, warns me to the passing of time without having to look at the clock. I guess that I must have been wrong: maybe my walk wasn't today

Very little time passes from the sun peeking through the window and him waiting patiently for his walk. You need to somehow convey the passage of more time. Either use more thought or describe how time has become irrelevant (or he has become irrelevant to time). As we read this, there is no indication of passing of time, so it could easily be 15 minutes.

my world of memories and philosophy.

I understand you're still young, but you can't take an older man and have him claim he's lingering in "philosophy" when he really hasn't thought anything profound. The memories, I can buy, but there has been no examination of life and meaning.

I think to myself that if there was a way to let the mouths of the completely paralyzed

"to myself" is quite unnecessary as it's hard to think to someone else. And the "completely" is unnecessary. I understand you're trying to differentiate between paraplegics, quadriplegics, and those completely paralyzed, but the word comes across as excessive and awkward. Because of the situation, we understand what kind of paralyzed you mean.

hauntingly beautiful wisdom drip from utterances of their lips.

A decent line, but again, there has been no beautiful wisdom coming from this guy's head.

The sun is gone now, and I my sterile room

You've got an extra word there somewhere.

Anyway. Overall, a bold attempt, trying to live inside of the head of an older man (whom I gather shares almost nothing with a 14-year-old female who isn't disabled). However, it just feels like you don't come across with enough experience and wisdom for it. Take the time and plumb some thoughts, wrangle some ideas, and explore emotions. We don't have nearly enough emotion here. I don't want screaming agony. I want honest, dignified emotion and almost an inner debate. Because that's what philosophy is. It's not easy and sometimes you end up hating yourself or those you thought you loved or disillusioned or apathetic or a raging mess. But it's part of the deal. So see if you can tease that out.

And I suggest you go read the book or watch the movie "The Diving Bell and the Butterfly" (the movie is quite a good version, which is rare). It will give some insight into the situation, since the book was written by the man himself (through a system of blinking through the alphabet to a very helpful and patient nurse).

Good luck, and I'll keep an eye out for future works by you.

Gosh, that makes me want to hug the poor guy or something, lol. I wanted to review this, but so many already did. XD