Young Writers Society

Preface: My Sanctuary

Sometimes, at night when I lie in bed, the world of sleep and the world of dreams let down their bridge.

My soul parts my body and waltzes to the halfway mark of that bridge where I hear hums like the sounds of harp strings. The place is nameless. Naming that place where the aroma of strawberry crêpes asphyxiates the air is like trying to count the stars. My mind walks alongside the sidewalks of that place and I see obscure memories pass by: Alex, Kate, a jar with scraps of paper, Tina, Leo, a basketball... There are so many perfect names and things that slink by and I fall, lost in a lapse of time. A warm sensation radiates from my skin and my mind starts slipping. But almost always, just before I pass this sliver between the parallel worlds, my closed eyes find the faltering haze of two figures I cannot recognize. Silhouettes.

I just saw your sonnet, so when another of your peices popped up, I had to read it. You really have a gift for language. I'm jealous. I'm not sure where you're going with this, but I can't wait to find out.

Um, so I don't know if that was supposed to make sense. But it really didn't in my mind. It's kinda short too. You can't have something that short. I hate that all of this sounds so mean and everything.

You don't want to use such uncommon words in the beginning of a story either. But please keep going and inform me when you put more up so I can read it. Maybe the meds are just making me not think right. But this seems a little, odd.


Keep going please.


TNC

Very good! I loved it! The only problem is that it didn't really make sense. But if that was your goal, then it may turn the reader off rather than get them intrigued. My advice? Do a deeper foreshadow and you'll be good.