Simple Man EDITED

I posted this on TSR, but I have made some critiques and well-planned edits since then. I hope everyone enjoys this new and improved version!

He could feel the blood trickling from his temple, could feel his own sweat plastering his hair to his face. Gravel dug into his bruised cheek as it lay flat on the cement, but the other side of his face was glistening in the unwavering moonlight and his swelling eye gazed unsteadily at the many stars dancing and hovering above him. Lying there now, he knew he’d made a mistake. Somewhere along in his life he’d gone astray; something had misguided him and steered him detrimentally to this point. His mind reeled and throbbed, hurling images into the foreground of his thoughts that were mere after-effects of the drugs, but one point in time, one picture, remained in constant focus.
***
He is ten years old, sprinting through the tall grasses of his parents’ farm. His high-tops slap in syncopation with his labored panting, but he just keeps running, turning his face up to the sky and laughing the full laugh of the untroubled. He reaches the old farm house, bounds up the sturdy porch steps two at a time, and collapses into Momma’s rocking chair. Breathing heavily, he inhales the fresh October air and sunshine. He couldn’t leave this place for the world; this was his Alabama. How could anyone not appreciate the effortlessness of this life? Just as the boy feels he’s regained his strength and could go dashing across the fields again, Momma comes out and tells him to sit beside her in her rocking chair. He obliges, grudgingly, and the farmer’s wife begins to rock placidly back and forth in her well-worn chair.
“Son,” she begins, staring straight ahead of her to the glorious sunset melting over the immense grassland. He turns to her, expecting her to continue, and she does after a lengthy pause, “I’ve never wanted much in my life: a husband, a house, a child, my health. And I do have all of them, for which I’m mighty thankful. But there’s one more thing I want in this life, and I’ve wanted it ever since the day you was born.” Here she pauses again, her eyes heavy with a burden her son could not understand. “When you was born, you was sp’osed to have a brother too. Now I’ve told you this before and you know it aint your fault that he died, but ever since it was only you and not twins, I’ve learned that so many things can be taken from you just like that. And I don’t want you growing up taking everything for granted, son. I want you to learn that life aint never free or easy, but it’s always worth trying to push through. I want you to be a simple man, son, to be pure and kind and to appreciate the world around you. I want you to be a simple man, and to make me proud. Can you do that for me, son? Can you?” The question hangs in the air like a falling glass, suspended in motion.
He gulps. “Yes, Momma. I can do that for you,” he finally answers, and catches the tumbling glass. Quietly, he pulls himself up and kisses his momma on the forehead, and he steps back into the fields again, letting her speech drift to the back of his mind, hidden and forgotten for another day.
***
But now he could feel his own blood, contaminated by his drugs and liquor, dribbling from his forehead into a puddle of oil next to him in the ditch. His mind felt stuffed with cotton and thrown into a rotary fan. His mother’s sage words had not come to his mind since that day, so many years ago, and as he slipped into a final sleep, he knew he should have heeded that advice.
“I’ve failed, Momma. I wasn’t satisfied with a plain life, and I took off on my own adventures to do terrible things and now I’ve ruined myself. I’ve let you down. I’m so sorry, Momma.” he murmured, praying that she would hear and forgive him.But he need not have worried; it was all over now.

And so died the once Simple Man.
***

Because I like this so much and this is so well written, I get to be really nit picky about the little things.

Gravel dug into his bruised cheek as it lay flat on the cement, but the other side of his face was glistening in the unwavering moonlight and his swelling eye gazed unsteadily at the many stars dancing and hovering above him.

What a long sentence! Try and break it up a bit.

His high-tops slap in syncopation with his labored panting, but he just keeps running, turning his face up to the sky and laughing the full laugh of the untroubled.

Woot! High tops!! ((Sorry, just had to say that...I love high tops. ))

“When you was born, you was sp’osed to have a brother too.

"sp'osed" can be "supposed". I know you're trying to do the whole dialect thing, but it sounds exactly the same the proper way, so there's no reason not to use that.
I would consider cutting the "too" at the end of this sentence. "Too" means "also". That doesn't really fit and make sense, so I'd cut it.


Whenever you have the mother saying "ain't" in here, you don't have the apostrophe. It's "ain't", not "aint".

I want you to be a simple man, son,

This is awkward. I know what you're trying to say, but I had to read it twice because "man" and "son" are right next to each other.


I liked the tumbling glass metaphor. And how when he answered he "caught the tumbling glass". Very nice.

"I’ve failed, Momma. I wasn’t satisfied with a plain life, and I took off on my own adventures to do terrible things and now I’ve ruined myself. I’ve let you down. I’m so sorry, Momma.”

Stick a comma in there after "things" and before "and".

I’m so sorry, Momma.” he murmured,

Should be (note the bold comma): I'm so sorry, Momma," he murmured,


And finally, the last sentence didn't really make sense to me. I was under the impression that he was never a simple man, that he disregarded his mother and went to do what he wanted. You say that he never thought about his mother's advice before, so when was he ever simple, besides when he was a child?
And if you do keep the last sentence the same, I don't think "Simple Man" needs to be capitalized.


I didn't really like how the tense switched from past to present to past. I think if you're going to switch, it should be present past present, because the flashback happened a long time ago and isn't happening now. Does that make sense? Tell me if it doesn't.


The mother certainly talks A LOT in the middle. There's like a whole block of her dialouge. Maybe, just to break it up a tiny bit, you could talk about what the main character is doing as she's talking. Is he fidgeting? Is he listening intently?


I liked the image you conjured of him running through the field. So cute. And this was, overall, very well written. I enjoyed reading it A LOT. The beginning instantly drew you in, because you're immediately wondering, "Oh my God, why is he bleeding?"

Really great work.

You have a good idea here. What you've written is well-worded and grammatically sound. Very good work.

One think that I might draw your attention to is the mother's dialogue. Because it is so important to the story, and accounts for a large portion of the writing, you have to pay attention to every word. Only say what is most important. For example, is the dead twin vital to the message you are trying to convey?

And when you are sure that a certain phrase is quite important, go over it and arrange the words for the most impact. Don't hesitate to add more periods and pauses, creaks of the rocking chair, etc. You really want your readers to listen.

Oh, I loved this in TSR and I love it here too.

Wow.

This is depressing, but very well-written, original and interesting. Your descriptions are very vivid. I don't have any negative feedback on this, just praise.

Cheers!

Liz (Rebelle) rocks.

And this seems better than the first time I read it, over at TSR or PnP or where ever.

Cool stuff.

Keep it up.

I hope I see you around more often.

Your pal,
MH