Winter's a Blast!

Winter had an icy grip on the city as large, white flakes drifted down from the gray heavens. The trees were naked skeletons, only slightly resembling their summer selves. The streets were clear and the sidewalks were shoveled. No doubt this had been taken care of the moment the last storm had ended; that’s just the way things were done in this type of neighborhood.

She surveyed the street carefully making sure she was the only one out. Fiona Marlowe hesitated but only for a moment before starting up the tree house at 2510 Heather Avenue. The going was slow, not only was she being careful about the contents of the wicker basket she carried but climbing just wasn’t as easy now days. The early signs of arthritis were gnawing at her joints and the cold did nothing to ease these pains.

Finally she made it. Gingerly she set the basket on the simple floor and then sat down herself. She still had some time to kill so she pulled out her paperback novel and opened it where she left off. It was hard for her to focus on reading though so she decided to think once more about what she was doing and why.

Mostly she was tired; tired of being the scape-goat when it was convenient for HIM and never getting the credit she was due. She had always worked hard, even when doing things she disliked she put an effort into it and it had always paid off…until now.

Patience was something she had an abundance of but that day it had all been spent. So when he told her it was her 'duty’ to smooth over some CEO feathers that he had ruffled she lost it. After leaving she hadn’t even returned for her desk items.

Her jaw tightened as she stared fixedly at the basket with a furious heat in her crystal blue eyes. The memory of her last day in that office was clear as she replayed it over and over. Now she was certain she would do this. She smiled decisively at the dark brown basket that was heaping with white spheres of cold vengeance.

Now she was able to read and managed to get through two and a half chapters before a black SUV pulled up. The quiet motor was shut off and the front passenger door opened.

Mrs. Jenkins stepped delicately from the car, she wore her prim personality like a cocktail dress and Fiona doubted a smile had ever creased her pinched face. As she disappeared into the house Fiona got up onto her knees and into a better position. She had been a great baseball player in her youth and was still confidant of her shot. The driver’s door opened and out came the man of the hour; Oswald Jenkins.

As he swaggered to the back of the car she tried to massage the cold out hands. She grabbed the top snowball and placed it carefully beside the basket; this one was special. An oddly childish light suddenly lit up her face as she took the next snowball out of the basket, she aimed and let fly. It hit the car just a foot away from his head and made a loud ‘thud’.

“Who threw that?! Where are you?” He whirled around, his toady face was already filling with blood and his thinning hair was disheveled by the sudden movement.

She answered with another frozen missile that struck him square in the chest. After that he saw her but he stood for a moment staring in disbelief. It was long enough for her to loose another ball that hit him in his massive face. She had seen his face turn many colors but this was the first time she’d seen it turn purple and it struck her as funny how much he resembled a beet.

A crackling laugh escaped her lips as she reached for another snowball. This one hit him in the back of the neck as he scrambled around the car and escaped from her very accurate shooting.

“Fiona, what the hell is wrong with you?!” he screeched from his hiding place. A shiver of delight shook through her as she listened to his voice that reeked of uncertainty and fear. She could see him through the windows of the car and so she lobbed the next one almost lazily over the roof and grinned when she heard it collide with his robust head followed by a string of muffled curses.

Glancing towards her basket she realized she only had half of them left, including the one set aside for last. When she looked back she couldn’t see his shape through the car windows anymore. Just as she was starting to feel uneasy he came barreling from behind the car with snowballs in hand. He turned out to be okay but her shot was far superior. A couple of his actually hit his target but most were caught in the tree branches or missed the tree completely.

Before long her supply of ammo was used up except the one. She looked at it gravely and held it for a moment. It was much heavier than any regular snowball and somewhat oval shaped. Out one of the ends a small metal loop was sticking out, she slid a finger through this and yanked it out. Without a second thought she tossed the grenade. It flew straight and true and came to rest right between his feet. He glanced down and his eyes bulged at the sight but that was all he had time for.

His figure was decimated by the blast. It shook the entire neighborhood like an earthquake. The SUV wasn’t quite as shiny now and the tree house was definitely going to need repairs.

Fiona didn’t know why but she couldn’t stop laughing. Even when the paramedics arrived to take her away and even though her entire body was in agony; she laughed.

Spoiler

So I know this needs work I just thought I'd get it up here and see what people think. Hopefully it's not in need of sooo much work that no one can stand reading it hehe.
Anyways myy theme was: Your story is about a secretary in a tree house snow ball fighting.

Hello, I am Masque, and I shall be reviewing your story today. Before I really get into it, there's a few things I'd like to point out.
Red= Edits
Blue= Things I like
Green= Comments

Winter had an icy grip on the city as large, white, flakes drifted down from the gray heavens. The trees were naked skeletons, only slightly resembling their summer selves.

She surveyed the street carefully, making sure she was the only one out.

The early signs of arthritis were gnawing at her joints, and the cold did nothing to ease these pains.

Gingerly she set the basket on the simple floor and then sat down herself.
The wording of this sentence is slightly awkward. It sounds like Yoda is writing. "sat herself down" would work just fine. Also, "simple" isn't necessary. As the reader, I assumed that a tree house would have a simple floor unless otherwise specified.

It was hard for her to focus on reading, though, so she decided to think once more about what she was doing and why. As I was reading this part I was like "um... okay." I would rephrase this in a more interesting way. It sounds more like telling me rather than showing me.

Mostly she was tired, tired of being the scape-goat when it was convenient for HIM and never getting the credit she was due. She had always worked hard, even when doing things she disliked she put an effort into it and it had always paid off…until now.
There's something wrong with the punctuation here. I think there needs to be something after "disliked." I guess it depends on how you intended it to be read, but I'm not sure.

Patience was something she had an abundance of, but that day it had all been spent.

She smiled decisively at the dark brown basket that was heaping with white spheres of cold vengeance. I would cut out "that was" and add a comma.

Mrs. Jenkins stepped delicately from the car, she wore her prim personality like a cocktail dress and Fiona doubted a smile had ever creased her pinched face. These are two separate sentences. They should be separated or joined with a semi colon.

After that he saw her, but he stood for a moment, staring in disbelief. Hmmm.... this sentences is poorly worded. I would rephrase it and make it more interesting. It was long enough for her to loose another ball that hit him in his massive face. She had seen his face turn many colors but this was the first time she’d seen it turn purple and it struck her as funny how much he resembled a beet.

A shiver of delight shook through her as she listened to his voice that reeked of uncertainty and fear. She could see him through the windows of the car, and so she lobbed the next one almost lazily over the roof and grinned when she heard it collide with his robust head followed by a string of muffled curses.

He turned out to be okay but her shot was far superior.

Before long her supply of ammo was used up, except the one.

Alright, here we go. This was an interesting story, but there are a few things I would change. First, you missed a lot of commas. I pointed several of them out, but likely I missed some. Commas are important for the reader to know how you intended the sentence to sound, and to add pauses where necessary.

I would go back through this story and flesh it out. I felt more like you were giving me a rough outline with a few added details. I would go back in and fill it out with details, sensory imagery, and figurative language. My favorite parts were those parts were you used some sort of figurative language or sensory details, so I would put some more of that in.

The ending. It was kind of abrupt. I understood that she was angry before, but I didn't think she would be that angry, which didn't make it very believable. I read it and was thinking "wait, what?" I would go back and add in more hints that, perhaps, this woman isn't completely sane and lengthen the ending.

Overall, I think this story has a lot of potential, but needs some work for it to rise to it's potential. This could be a really interesting story!

Good work, and happy writing!
Masquerade

Be careful about being too descriptive. If you use too many adjectives to descibe one thing, it just makes it sound awkward. Let the reader's mind wander, and see what they see. You didn't over describe too much, but I being one to tend to be too descriptive, thought I should warn you about that. Make sure the adjectives are necessary to add, give the image you want, before you add them.

This piece was good, I didn't expect the ending at all It completely shocked me but I absolutely loved the change.

Good luck, you have done well.
-Brie