Young Writers Society

Hey there, pensword! Here to review on this fine review day

I actually did enjoy this. Although being rather confused half the time, it was certainly well written and had the right amount of description/actions for the length that it was, so well done! I think it's great that in such a short space you've managed to explain so much, and the ending is mysterious, but links to the title which is awesome.

My main critique is actually the length of this. I might sound like I'm contradicting myself here, but I think that there could be so much more to this story that you could write, because what you've written so far is great. I think the main issue is there's no real introductions to the settings or characters, they don't even have names! So it makes it a tad confusing as to what exactly is going on. Also, the scene is quite random and I don't actually get the point of anything that is written until right at the end.

I guess something you could do is just really flesh out everything. Although your details and descriptions are good so far, I'd like to see more! More about this character! Who is she? You don't necessarily have to give us a name, it seems she's more of a symbol of something anyways. In any case, I imagine her, or this thing, as something of great beauty perhaps? Something of his imagination and I'd like to see more about her.

A final point to make-

He had played away his life to get this opportunity, and for what? To die over a hostile, uncaring sea? He glanced at his wife, and then at his daughter, her tiny hand encompassed in his knotted palm. She looked up at him. Had he never before noticed her sparkling eyes?

Hey! I really enjoyed this little vignette!

The descriptions are subtle and interesting, and the story itself is powerful. And the ending is great too.

I can't wait to read more! Good luck!

Mind the edges; take with salt.

First impression: I am deeply intrigued. Your diction and style are both excellent. The story is, on its own, fascinating. Your writing is just the icing.

yet proud it was not.

The coughing cargo plane, wheezing and sputtering its way onto the cracked runway, seemed to be taking its dying breaths. The man in the worn coat was indignant. He had played away his life to get this opportunity, and for what? To die over a hostile, uncaring sea? He glanced at his wife, and then at his daughter, her tiny hand encompassed in his knotted palm. She looked up at him. Had he never before noticed her sparkling eyes? She knew nothing of the life they left or the life they would enter, but her eyes... they were dancing eyes, glinting in the spare light that peeked warily through the rolling waves of fog.

She smiled, and he felt his heart warm. A little of the ice was melting, the ice that he had let grow around his heart, ice of fear. Their oppressors were behind them, the burners, the branders. He had been marked, marred with the blood of atrocities he did not deserve, tattooed with a six-pronged star. The proud star, the ancient star, his wife called it, yet proud it was not. Not now. But when the little girl looked up at him, her eyes waltzing to an unsung tune, the star seemed to shine a little brighter.

The captain peered through the haze at the boarders. He rubbed his grimy, unshaven chin, thinking. He had seen people just like them before. They were a stooped people, paralyzed in fear, ducking their chins to avoid the whip. But who could care for them? They were just more passengers, more desperadoes ripe to be leeched. He pondered the succulent prospects. And yet, as they stumbled wearily on board, something twanged within him. Something about the way the man clenched his daughter's hand, the trust that passed between that white-knuckled grip. The girl gazed at him. He quickly ducked his head away, and then cautiously glanced back. Was it a trick of the light, or had her eyes been... dancing?

Hi there! Nightlyowl here to give you a review!

So I loved your piece, it was well written and, though short, gave a clear image which I loved. I would love to read more of this story, and I hope that this isn't it. I want to know what happens to the family, I want to know if this is still during the Holocaust, directly after, several years after... I want to know what happens to the family. Do they make it somewhere safe? Do they get caught? Punished? Does the plane crash and the little girl with the dancing eyes die? I would love love love to read more.

No onto any criticisms. I don't have many, since it was a really short piece, but I do have this one thing to say. "A little of the ice was melting, the ice that he had let grow around his heart, ice of fear." The "ice of fear" part sounds... strange and doesn't fit well. To make this possibly better, I'd take it out completely, reword it somehow or do something like this "A little of the ice was melting. The ice that he had let grow around his heart. The ice that came with fear." I don't know something like that. If you chop up sentences like that, making the curt and short, it gives an eerie startling affect and allows you to compare things like ice and fear and say one causes the other in a way that doesn't sound so... I don't know strange?

So yea... that's it. It was brilliant and I wish to read more from you!
5 owls out of 5
~ Nightly owl