The Fading - Chapter One

I had just escaped from the mad house where disgustingly patronizing snobs in white gowns assured me that I was going crazy that I had lost it, that I had contrived every single thing that had happened to me over the last two week, but if that was even remotely true how did I end up with this gunshot wound in my left shoulder, which wasn't bleeding anymore, thank God, but still sending arrows of pain down into my chest and back.

Why was I remembering all of these things that had happened to me. How do you explain Sarah - Sarah, Oh Sarah, what has become of you? I hope you're OK.

If she wasn't a real person with flesh and bones how did I have her cellphone - did I still have it? I slipped my hand into my back pocket and bumped my fingers onto its smooth plastic surface, yeah it was real, and so was Sarah! As real as the nose on my face, as real as the dirty smelly wet tunnel I was crawling through right now. She dropped it in the back alley of a bowling ring as we fought off two masked bandits weilding knives and a gun, by some miracle of God we both managed to get away but barely. I got off with a bullet in my shoulder only because I fought the hardest, while Sarah only sustained a few cuts on her arms, but only because she used me as her personal human shield.

I couldn't have dreamed all that up, no ways! I wasn't crazy, these people were the crazy ones for thinking they could blot out my memories and make me discount everything I've had to endure eversince that FBI agent (or whatever she was) dropped a big black box on my doorstep and warned me to guard it with me life. "If it falls into the wrong hands it would spell the end if the world!" She told me and then without as much Goodluck ran off down the street like someone fleeing a pursuer and vanished around the corner. Well that's what I've tried to do only to have everything and everyone I cherish put in utter harms way. Maybe I should have been a little bolder and told her to bugger off as I had intended to, but she sounded so convincing, so genuine, so urgent that I felt a sudden urge of patriotism sweep over my bones, so that in that moment I stupidly believed that I could make a difference.

Crawling through a tight, dark, smelly, wet tunnel with rats nipping at you from everywhere was exactly as horrible as it sounded, but at this point I was desperate enough to do anything tp get out of this place.

I was sitting quietly in front of a big metal valve now, wet from head to toe and shaking like a leaf, not far beyond it was my liberation, the mouth of the tunnel.

I'd just wait here till 10 a.m. until the valve opens and be flushed out with the sewage onto the grassy field on the other side of the high fence surrounding the metal hospital, that was a far better deal than spending one more minute in this hell hole. Getting pricked with a thousand needles and injected with poisonous cocktails that make you vomit and shit out your insides, and getting your brain fried over and and over til you couldn't even remember your own freaking name.



"You're mind is trying to compensate by creating false memories", yeah right, tell that to a fool because I was no fool, I didn't dream up almost getting killed in the back alley like like a cheap 2 dollar hooked

This was an extremely riveting piece to read indeed! With every section, I was enthralled and your story lines are just fabulous. Great job, keep it up!
-CFG

Hey Roundsquare, Sis here to review,

Alright, so overall I think this was a really good idea. I think I know what you were trying to get across but the way you portrayed it was a bit confusing to me. I think all the reviews below mine told you grammatical errors and punctuation and stuff, but I'm to lazy to go through and read all of them. Also, you say that this is The Fading, Chapter One. However, there turns out to be 3 chapters inside of chapter 1. So, are they parts of chapter one? Or is it separate chapters? Another thing is that I think you tried to cram so much imagery into some of your sentences that it got to be a bit overwhelming.

Overall, this was a really cool idea. Maybe in your next chapters, you could explain a little more about what's going on. Like, why didn't Gloria call James back if she'd missed eleven calls? She just went to work without telling him anything. That seemed a bit out of place. Well, keep writing and keep smiling!
See ya,
Sis

Hello, Roundsquare.

I am here to review as you requested c:

Well, first off, love the story so far. I think it was a very interesting story to read.
Second off, for the readers, it is better to post your stories as chapters, instead of posting all of the chapter into one.

There was an error at the beginning of the first chapter.

It was a bit of a distance but he'd get there albeit more wet than he was now.

Hey there, Roundsquare, here to review as requested.

I will review this separately with every chapter.

Chapter One

There aren't many mistakes here, but there are a few things that you could improve with punctuation, mostly commas.

James stood with his hands on his hips, thinking. He plunged a small brown key into the keyhole and twisted it. Just as before, the lock didn't budge. He could try knocking, but there was no point in that since he’d knocked a countless times already.

James didn't stop to catch his breath as the mouth of the alley loomed to his left side. He turned right into it and didn't stop running. The high walls of the alley offered no respite from the rain that poured as hard as ever.

What was Gloria thinking to leave the place in a mess like this.?

In the science lab he could make deadly explosions by mixing a bunch of colorful ingredients together. Yet as fun as all that was he simply didn't have the brains required to continue his chemistry major, and so he dropped out in his 3rd year.

His love for mixing ingredients never left him though, it put him in a chef’s hat and drove him into the kitchen where, unlike in a science lab, the ingredients he mixed together could be tasted and smelled, and instead of deadly explosions what resulted was delicious dishes.

The bizarre noise continued to split his head for what felt like an eternity and then it was suddenly gone, overtaken by a silence that was even more intense. James couldn’t hear a single thing, not his breathing, not his heartbeat, not even his voice when he tried to speak. It was as if sound had stopped existing. He eyes were open by now but he couldn’t see a thing. He’d found himself in total darkness. It was the kind of darkness that could be touched. It felt alive and for a moment James thought that he might be one with it.

His head and shoulders passed through with ease but his elbows encountered a lot of resistance.

A headache was the last thing she’d hoped for and, yet here she was being ravaged by one of the worst kind, a migraine.

Hey there Roundsquare! How are you doing this fine day? As I told you I would be earlier, I'm here to review this work of yours. I thank you again for letting me preview the passages from later on in the story and happy to have helped you by reading it.

Now, let's get started:
I really enjoyed this work of yours. I think you did a good job and that it's very well written. I like the way you write and the words you use. I liked how it was easy to picture the story as it played out in my mind and I didn't have to go back and re-read anything. I think you have great talent and potential as a writer, and don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise.

In the science lab he could make deadly explosions by mixing a bunch of deadly chemicals together.

by yelling Gloria’s name like a fool only seconds earlier

When he opened his eyes he found that the light had gone out because the room had gone completely dark.

Hi Roundsquare! Here to review as requested

I'll start off my review with what I liked about this. I think that the ending is good because it leaves the story at a cliffhanger which is intriguing and makes me want to read more. I also think generally the whole idea of this is pretty cool. Although the background information to this is a bit confusing, I'm assuming he's a chef? An angry chef, and you showed that really well through his character so well done!

My first critique is that every sentence starts with either 'he' or 'James'! You really need to vary the way you sentences start because I feel like I was reading the same thing over and over again and it started to get boring. Perhaps next time try and start with adverbs to make it more interesting because right now it's a bit boring. I used to do this all the time too without even realising it, but just try and mix it up a bit because you've got a good story coming along so it'd be a shame to mess it up with your sentence structures.

Secondly, there were a few points where I could see that you were showing, not telling. For example,

It made him very angry.

This was the first thing he should have thought about.

It's awesome!! So worth my time!! I can't wait to read the next chapter!!!
You have captured my attention, and there are little to no mistakes apart from the ones I've pointed out already. Also it is full of suspense and had my heart rate going in anticipation!!
Well done and keep it up!!

Basil

Hey Unds!

Shady here to review Chapter Three and Four, as requested. Sorry it took a bit. I got sick. >.>

I suggest you post any subsequent chapters separately. It'll help keep it straight-- which reviews go with which chapter. It also encourages reviewers. I, and many reviewers, focus mostly on the works that don't have many reviews-- and, well, how this is, Ch. 4 might not have any reviews, but reviewers might not notice that.

Alright! On to the review!

Chapter Three

He was finally exhausted and kneeling in a pathetic heap beside the passed out woman watched her dust covered back swell with beautiful life .

started running along the backstreet after whatever it was he???d seen.

???A ghost wearing a coat and a witch hat???? Very strange, but no more strange than waking up as a ghost.

Turning away from the girls he nearly knocked heads withbumped into a man that was suited to the tee dressed for a business meeting.

That Gloria was bothered by the events of last night was an understatement, it's all she could think about. It ate into her gray matter.

young paramedic raided the bruise on her forehead ward with something that stung.

looked like a mine worker.

James couldn???t very well tell the woman he???d just survived an earthquake

She however was insistent he join her for the dinner she was just about to have, and having no serious objection to it but the real reason of hunger to say yes James found himself sitting at Dorothy???s kitchen table.

James said with one side of his mouth while chewing on a piece of chicken with the other.

Let me start off by saying, this is a very, very interesting concept. So, you have gotten point number one right by getting my attention, keeping it, and making me want to read more. That is by far the most important thing in a story.

Of course, like any writing piece, there are the basic grammatical errors, spelling errors, word choice problems, etc. Mainly, there are words used that work, but don't seem to be the best fit for the sentence. Some simple revisions should fix this, just read back over it.

Now, my main complaint is that the flow is awkward. It is not that the story doesn't flow at all, but the flow is difficult to follow. I found myself second guessing who was speaking, who a speaker was talking about, and/or when the point of view had switched. In sections, the point of view switched and the speaker changed, perhaps an extra space or a line break between these two paragraphs would be useful to tell the reader, "Hey, I'm changing now. Pay attention."

The flow is difficult to follow, also, because the story seems to skip from event one to event two to event three etc. Instead, try a bit of connection between events where you still have a lot of storyline and action, but the reader can follow the thought process of the narrator from one action moment to the next. Your story seems to say (such as chapter one) the ceiling fell, I am outside, Gloria fell, I'm a ghost. Perhaps connect the thoughts to make the reader flow with the storyline because I felt as though I was trying to catch up to where you were in your thoughts in writing this.

Overall, excellent. I am excited to see what you do with this story because, with a little bit of work, this could be wonderful. I think the plotline can go very far with the right work. Keep writing!

Okay so I only seen like one or two mistakes it mainly had to do with wrong words.
Like: ' the young paramedic raided the bruise on her forward with something that stung.'
'the young paramedic raided the bruise on her forehead with something that stung.'
see better

There was another one but i'll have to read it again in order to find it and as much as I enjoyed it reading things twice is killer. I don't like that unless like I read it a couple of weeks from now.

Okay so not to be mean or anything but I feel that the second chapter should be longer. One because the third is way too long and it doesn't really balance out well.

I like how you went from James to Gloria. Wish it had more about her. You also had described the characters more. Like how they look I don't know what James looks like but I was with him through the whole story and I can see and understand where his head is at but I cant really see him. Nor Gloria. I can kind of picture the person with the hat but i'm guessing he isn't all that important, but something tells me my guess might be wrong. If it is I'd like for you to describe him too.

I like how you described all the things he was seeing. Not that many people do that, but you did. Oh and they language that you use is perfect. It goes with the story that you're telling.

It kind of reminds me of this movie but way better. I'd like to see what happens with James and if Gloria finds him or not okay?

Hey Roundsquare!
I'm just going to open with this: I am glad that you asked me to read this. I sure as hell don't regret it. It's a superbly written piece which kept me interested from start to finish.
Your writing style is wonderful. In the first chapter alone, you've characterised James so well. I think most of this has been achieved through your use of subtle mannerisms, such as the twitch of James's mouth at the state of the kitchen - little things such as this go so far to making your characters seem human. I wish writers did this more often.
Your vocabulary is fantastic. Too often, in the writing of both others and myself, do I see people using the same words over and over again, but your writing is free of this, which is refreshing.
Honestly, as has been said below, the best thing you could do for this piece is to proofread it. There are a few grammatical errors which could be picked up on which, whilst they didn't bother me at all, may stand out to some readers.
Keep writing, and keep me posted on the status of this novel!
Thanks,
Sandvich

Hey, Roundsquare! Here as requested. Allow me to drive straight in!

Overall, I liked it - I like where you're going with the story and the description here. It's intriguing and I'm interested to see where you take this next!

The first thing I noticed were the grammatical errors in the first chapter, but other reviewers have already commented on that... one thing I did notice, however, is that at first, we don't know who Gloria is until Chapter 2. I mean, we have an idea that he means a lot to her but it's quite ambiguous at the moment so we don't understand that much. Is she his lover? Crush? Partner? He cares a lot about her - more than one'd expect for a typical co worker I'd say.

Also, I would advise combining Chapter 1 and 2. It'd make a lot more sense to the reader as it seems like they're almost in the same scene.

Another thing - right at the beginning of chapter 3, why isn't James more surprised? I wouldn't have expected him to have been more relaxed after the ordeal. Wouldn't his mind be spinning with questions, feeling disorientated or whatnot? He seemed a bit too relaxed for what I'd have expected.

Finally, I feel like the story was lacking something... and that thing was plot. So far, he's found himself in what seems like heaven after seeing his restaurant in a mess. That made it quite confusing because I expected there to have been a problem, but it just seems too much like an event. I wanted to see him *do* something but there isn't much of that, just him standing there experiencing things. A bit more plot, more story, would really really help.

That's all from me! Hope I helped and if you've got any questions, you know where to go.

- Blues.

Hey there!

In a few hours, throngs of starving souls were going to turn the dim, undisturbed room, he stood in, into one of the busiest restaurants in town.

and he had to turn it back the right way before leaving it on the peg next to Gloria’s unmistakable red and purple striped umbrella.

He suddenly went pale like a man who’d just witnessed his own death.

It was a very heated exhange.

James didn’t have time for another thought, because at that very moment the Kitchen shook with the loudest noise he had ever heard. He was on the floor face down, and lay there for a long time with his hands behind his head. His heart had never pounded so hard.

They made the place looke like the dig site for an ancient city.

Where the dead not supposed to rest in peace? Warm tears foamed out of his eyes and washed over the old dried up ones on his cheeks. They felt good. They made him feel alive. Throwing himself to the ground he wept more bleakly.

Hey Roundsquare! I'm here to review at your request. You'll notice marking throughout your story of corrections, and comments as well.

CHAPTER ONE


James didn't bother wiping his muddy ASICS sneakers on the entrance mat outside Viva Deli. All he could think about was getting cover from the downpour. In a few hours, throngs of starving souls were going to turn the dim, undisturbed room no comma neededhe stood in, into one of the busiest restaurants in town. All of them were going to be here for his cooking. A mischievous gust had flipped his umbrella as he crossed the road towards the restaurant’s entrance, and he had to turn it back the right way before leaving it on the peg next to Gloria’s unmistakable red and purple striped umbrella. Her working day started an hour before his and ended similarly. Why hadn't she turned on the lights though? Two large crystal chandeliers resembling gowns flickered to life and illuminated a room designed to look like an eighteenth century ballroom.

The smells of the previous day’s orders still floated in the air and teased his senses. Food was his life, it’s what he lived for. That's why he woke up at 5 AM this morning either write 5 AM of 5 in the morning. Both make no sense. (like he'd done for the last five years) and ran a whole block in what's driving rain? driving rain. He arrived smelling like a wet towel, and, looking like he’d just stripped a hobo of his rags. He would clearly need to freshen up in the staff washroom before firing up the stoves. He glanced nonchalantly at the jet black watch around his wrist as he broke his gait outside a chrome metal door in the back of the room. Above it a plaque, also chrome metal, read KITCHEN in big black letters visible from the restaurant's entrance.

The watch's hands had pointed out it was only 6:30, but there was neither squeak nor clatter in the kitchen, which would have been the case if Gloria and her team were hard at work in there. Could they have cleared up early? The porthole in the door loomed in front of his face as he peered into the kitchen. He suddenly went pale like a man who’d just witnessed his own death.

It looked like a tornado, or maybe a garbage truck, had made a detour in the kitchen. The place was a total wreck. Even worse, no one seemed to be doing anything about it. He’d waited for any of the heads of the cleaners to pop into view, but there was no movement in the room, as far as he could tell. "What on earth is going on?" He wouldn't be able to get any work done in this mess, though he looked like he'd fit right into it. The metal door squeaked open a few seconds later sending a kitchen cart into the central worktable. The racket surprised James who froze in the doorway with his fingers extended in front of his waist like the quills of an angered porcupine.

The impact upset an empty milk bottle which fell to pieces on the floor from the mountain of garbage on top of the worktable. Flour dusted everything from the dirty bowls, pans, and pots left everywhere to the dirty cutlery sticking out of them. Spills of every kind made the floor a dangerous place to walk on. A heap of flat boxers, resembling pizza boxers, rose to the ceiling from the top shelf of the étagère next to him, and on the bottom shelf grease covered stockpots, as big as small buckets tumbled into each other.

For a full minute or so James could only stare with a raised eyebrow. This is how the kitchen looked like after a typical workday but not how it should look like at the start of one. His lips twitched, "Gloria! Gloria!" He edged his way to the backdoor and stopped short of opening it. A thought had unsettled him. What if he found the cleaning team in pieces, just like in those R-rated slasher films? It was unthinkable that his co-workers had been met with such a gory fate.

"This is no good. This will not do at all. Gloria had better have a good explanation." He muttered. Gloria been acting up for weeks. Hands on his hips he called out to her again, with a bit of hesitance in his voice this time, but was only met by silence. He twirled his right fingers indecisively, above the long shiny door handle. He was still thinking about those slashed up bodies. This is ridiculous! He jerked down on the handle, pried open the door, and got an eyeful of a typical back-street, with dumpsters against the walls, and trash piles tied up in dark green garbage bags. He couldn’t help letting out a sigh of relieve. He smiled awkwardly wagging his head at his hyperactive imagination. "Phil? Philemon!" he called out to the second in command, Gloria's right hand man, again silence greeted him.

Did he miss the rapture? Where on earth was everyone? He scratched the back of his head. The front door had been left unlocked apparently not by Gloria's cleaners because of all the mess surrounding him. Someone else must be in here! James chided himself for thinking like this? Nine out of ten times a sensible and practical explanation always revealed itself. No need to evoke the rapture or serial killers, but he still turned sharply away from the back entrance, and became alert like a mouse sensing danger. His fear was taking on a life of its own like it tended to, but reason fought back.

The doors were unlocked because the person who was in charge of locking up last night obviously raided the restaurant’s whiskey store and got a little too careless. A memory tucked at his brain just then, it came to him like a fuzzy silent movie. He saw the kitchen during a busy work day, the blurred

shapes of the staff rushing to and fro. He saw billows of steam rising out of big boiling pots, and he saw Gloria's pursed lips. She was incensed. Pumping her fists in his face. He saw his own finger shaking furiously in front of him. It was a very heated exhange. Each party had to duck a few flying pots. He remembered the sudden shift in her eyes, utter boundless fear took her over like she’d seen a ghost, and just like that he couldn’t remember anymore, tried as he did.

It was very annoying that he couldn't remember any of the words. It made no sense that he'd forgotten about such a huge quarrel, especially when it had happened just last night. Now that he'd remembered it though, he had a pretty decent guess as to why Gloria was missing. She'd probably quit and taken her services elsewhere.

James didn’t have time for another thought, because at that very moment the Kitchen shook with the loudest noise he had ever heard. He was on the floor face down, and lay there for a long time with his hands behind his head. His heart had never pounded so hard. Two years ago his friend Thomas took him on hunting trip. Those rifles squeaked compared to the boom which had just wiped out his hearing. James breathed in the filthy kitchen floor for another five minutes or so, and then tried to get up, but realized he’d tried too soon as he crumbled back to the floor. This was no good. He couldn’t lie here licking the floor clean all day.

A good moment passed by and his ears were still thick with ringing. He hoped to God that this was not what being deaf sounded like. He sighed, rolling over on his back, and instantly gaped at the ceiling that sagged like a mattress. The thought of ending up as a squashed bug gave him strength to hobble up to his feet, and stay on them while he made a quick exit out the back door,

CHAPTER TWO

Distant-sounding car alarms manufactured a haunting melody in his ears. He could hear again. The dumpsters he’d seen when he poked his head out of the backdoor earlier were ghostly forms behind a wall of dust. Sticking out of the same dust like small mini coopers were chunks of concrete. They made the place looke like the dig site for an ancient city. If James had any doubts about what had just taken place, he was now sure that an earthquake, or something with a similar destructive force, had just passed underneath the town.

He raised his shirt over his mouth and nose and ventured into the dust. There was no way he was going back inside the restaurant only to be crushed by the kitchen ceiling. He thanked God the dust cloud wasn’t nearly as thick as it had seemed from the outside. Sure, everything he looked at was blurred but at least he could see where he was going. Coughing he frowned at the destruction everywhere. How many people had died or had lost their loved ones in this? He wondered. He was relieved that he didn’t have a family to worry about. But he did have friends who lived not too far from here – He jumped sideways barely missing a dangerous looking hole in the ground. His legs would have gone clean through. Heaving a sigh he moved on telling himself to be more careful.

Suddenly the earth slid under his feet like jelly and he lost his balance. Not again! He couldn’t live through it again! “No! Nooo!” he cried but the only sound he heard was the rumble of the earth. He glanced about frantically for shelter, but the ground moved like a swing under his feet making it impossible to focus. Looking up the last thing he saw before everything darkened was a wall of dust bearing down on him.

A woman watched noiselessly from a few feet away. James saw her when he opened his eyes. She could have been Gloria but shone so brightly that he thought for a moment that she might be an angel. Did angels stagger like drunks? He wondered as a bulky woman staggered out of the sunlight. "Gloria! Where've you been!?" He squealed although he intended to shout. He sat up and looked at her. Despite the fact that her Asian features were not obvious under the blanket of grey dust covering her, James was still sure, as sure as the clouds were white, and the sky was blue that the woman before him was his coworker Gloria. He wondered if she'd experienced the same thing he'd just been through. "Are you okay?" The question was meant as more of a formality, because he knew full well that the woman careening like a drunken fool in front of him was a far cry of her usual poised and pulled together self.

Her body jolted forward as she coughed up the same dirt covering her hair and body. James realized what was about to happen as the woman approached him on two very wobbly legs. Without thinking he shot up to his knees and reached out to prevent the avoidable, which rapidly became the inevitable as the woman nosedived to the concrete behind him. He spun around realizing the absurdity of the whole thing. How did she land behind him when he was reaching out to her only seconds ago? It was almost as if she'd fallen right through him.

He noticed the messy backstreet for the first time. Everything was grey just like his arms and legs, just like Gloria. Big boulders, no, blocks of concrete jutted here, there and everywhere. In fact there was one right next to him. How did he end up in such a mess? His mind reeled but no easy answers presented themselves. The entire upper half of the building to his right was gone. Just gone. He realized it was down here in the backstreet. He turned to the groaning woman and lowered his hand over her shoulder with the aim to turn her over, but his hand came back up empty. He tried again with the same result. His eyes ballooned and chest pounded. His hand had passed right through the woman’s shoulder twice. “Oh God I can't be dead!” He whispered.

CHAPTER THREE

James leaned over the woman determined to lift her up. Each failed attempt to take hold of her body simply energized him for the next attempt. By George he was going to beat this thing, he had eternity on his side. He sounded like a broken whistle as he screamed furiously, long after his voice was gone. He felt sick, and wished he could throw up. Anything to make him feel alive! But alas! Such displeasures were meant for the living. What about his hurting heart? Where the dead not supposed to rest in peace? Warm tears foamed out of his eyes and washed over the old dried up ones on his cheeks. They felt good. They made him feel alive. Throwing himself to the ground he wept more bleakly.

Exhausted at last, James knelt in a pathetic heap beside the passed out woman, and with watery eyes watched her dust covered back swell with beautiful life. His chest imitated hers but it was probably just a cruel reminder of his priceless loss. He felt prompted to lean over and touch her one last time. His hands cut right through her clothes, back and touched down on concrete.

He looked up the sunlit backstreet just in time to catch sight of a black cape, with a tall black hat hovering above it, disappear around the corner. James got up, and not quite sure why, started running along the backstreet after whatever it was he’d seen. “A ghost wearing a coat and a witch hat?” Very strange, but not any stranger than waking up as a ghost. He reached the end of the backstreet and climbed over a slap of rock blocking the exit, only to find himself square in the middle of a typical evening in Trenchtown. Which was basically pedestrians and cars vying for the same space in a narrow street. This was Alpine to be exact, set apart by its tall shiny skyscrapers and fancy restaurants like Viva Deli. The heartbeat of town. It was what folks had in mind when they said I’m going on the town.

James stared with an open mouth at a pale grey moon sitting above the skyscraper across the street. "But... how?" Wasn't it just sunny a while ago? He turned around and peered into the narrow street he had just emerged from. It looked like any typical backstreet would at night. The slap of concrete which he had to climb over on his way here was gone along with anything that would suggest an earthquake had happened. It was all so confusing to him. Maybe he wasn't dead at all, maybe he'd dreamed all of this up (the earthquake, becoming a ghost) and would soon wake up in his bed. Only, this street didn't didn't feel much like a dream. The cool wind seemed real enough, so did the traffic jam before him, and the pedestrians.

A pack of chatty young women, dressed up for the club eyed him interestedly, laughing, and shaking their heads as they walked by. Could they see him? Where they laughing at him? Turning away from the girls he nearly knocked heads with a man that was suited to the tee for a business meeting. The man jumped out of the way with a look of terror plastered on his face. James didn’t move a muscle. Why would a ghost need to get out of the way? “You watch where you’re going you lowlife piece of trash!” The man chided as walked by at a safe distance brushing something from the front of his blazer. James could have sworn that was directed at him.

More people walked by, down and up the sidewalk, and all of them seemed to recognize his presence. He didn’t understand what was happening but a dry smile still twisted his lips. He asked a lone pedestrian for the time, but the woman pulled away to the side like she was avoiding a leper, when he touched her arm. The touch of her skin sent a charge through his hand. It felt good.

One look at himself and James understood why everyone was acting up. They were merely avoiding a hobo covered in muck from head to toe. He smiled joyfully. He was full of beautiful life. He patted his right back pocket; he should still have his wallet. Behold! He did. He removed it and counted out just enough cash for a cab right home. The restaurant could survive a night without him.

As he’d expected it was impossible to get a cab to stop for him in his current state, so after a while he finally decided to leg it. His apartment was a bit out of the way from Alpine but he’d get there in one piece. There were lots of other folks around, he was going to be fine. An hour later he stopped in front of a neat red brick apartment building with a neatly trimmed hedge running along the bottom. In the middle the hedge gave way to a staircase that lead up to a big brown door. James ascended the steps and pushed a button on a wall. An intercom speaker sparked to life in a moment and James told a lady that he’d come home.

Hey there! Just finished reading your work, here's my review:

~ You have a knack for building up an atmosphere, and your description of the wrecked kitchen was exquisite
~ There were a few grammatical errors, but other reviewers have highlighted them so I won't run the risk of repetition!
~ I really like how we get a sense of the character's personality. He's relatable. We've all jumped to crazy conclusions and the way you executed these was humorous without detracting from the mysterious tone of the piece.
~ I'm really intrigued by these characters and want to know more about them. Some physical descriptors would really help me visualise them.
~ I think the flow of the piece could perhaps be improved upon. And the more philosophical quotes can seem forced, i.e. "he was full of beautiful life" and "was anything unthinkable in this crazy world?"
~ Remember, less is more. Let the readers make their own inferences, for example, you wrote "He scratched the back of his head, wondering about what was going on." I don't think the second part of this sentence is really needed as the first is enough to demonstrate his confusion.

Overall, a great piece! Just make a few refinements and it'll be excellent!

Hey.
What I really like about your writing is that you have used a large range of vocabulary, the parts where you have described those intimate objects are just perfect. You have no grammitical mistakes as far as I am concerned and this is a pretty nice peice of work. Though, long for lazy people like me. :3
Your description however, is the best part. It helps me to build up an image of those objects and surrounding.
-Will be hoping to see more work soon.

Hey there Roundsquare!

First off, I commend you on your nearly perfect grammar. I say nearly because the flow of the piece is sometimes jarred by your improper use of commas, for example here:

In a few hours, throngs of starving souls were going to turn the dim, undisturbed room, he stood in, into one of the busiest restaurants in town.

Why hadn’t she turned on the lights though? Two large crystal chandeliers resembling gowns fluttered to life. and drenched the expensively decorated room, in a bright sparkling radiance

He suddenly went pale like a man who’d just witnessed his own death. James swiped at the tufts of blonde hair messing with his vision, and had another look at the jaw dropping scene inside.

He wouldn't be able to get any work done in this mess, though he looked like he'd fit right into it.

His lips twitched, "Gloria! Gloria!"

Hey Unds!

Shady here with your review, as promised.

I tend to start my reviews with specific points, whether they be complaints or compliments, and wrap them up with a general overview.

Alright. The first thing that stands out is that you need punctuation. For example...

James couldn’t didn't (He /could/ have-- he just chose not to) bother wiping his muddy ASICS sneakers on the entrance matting outside Viva Deli. since aAll he could think about was getting cover from the downpour.

>> In a few hours, throngs of starving souls were going to turn the dim, undisturbed, room he stood in, into one of the busiest restaurants in town.

Food was his life it’s what he lived for.

He arrived smelling like a wet towel, and, looking like he’d just liberated (a strange word to use here. Maybe "stripped a hobo" instead of 'liberated', since 'liberated' tends to have positive implications attached to it-- not having your clothes stolen, haha) a hobo of his rags. Heandwould clearly need to freshen up in the staff washroom before firing up the stoves.

He suddenly looked like a man who’d just witnessed his own death.

It looked like a tornado or a garbage truck had made a detour in the kitchen, the place was a total mess, and even worse, no one seemed to be doing anything about it.

What if he stumbled upon the bloody corpses of the cleaners, just like in those slasher films that put the fear of killers into a nine year old boy thirteen years ago?

Even after wrecking his brains

James didn’t have time for another thought as he threw himself to the floor face down and lay there with his hands behind his head. His heart had never pounded so hard. The last time he’d heard something, about as loud as what had just shaken the kitchen was on the hunting trip his friend Thomas took him on two years ago

He couldn’t lie here licking the floor clean all day.

You did a great job here, Roundsquare. This seems to promise more of the same, and that means more improvement and more good writing, so good luck with it.

Varied sentence structure and diction, fluent sentences, and proportional description contribute to the success of the piece.

One possible thing to improve on is being a little less flighty and cryptic with stuff, especially in the beginning, but hey, if that's the style you're going for, more power to ya.

Good Job

Great story

Hi!

Firstly, welcome to YWS, I hope this brilliant site helps you as much as it's helped me!

Now, on to your story. For a first chapter I didn't find it as engaging as I was expecting. I assume you wanted to slowly build this story up, but I do think you still need to make sure you're adding enough to your paragraphs that excite your readers and make them want to read more.

Saying that, I really enjoyed the flow of your writing. Aside from a few grammar mistakes here and there, it was good for a first story. I also enjoyed your description a lot. There was just enough to create a nice vivid image of your characters surroundings, which is something I enjoyed whilst I was reading it. I also liked the way you showed the readers your main character's personality. He clearly loves his job and is very dedicated to it, which you put across nicely.

A short review, I know, but I hope it helps!

*coco