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When Crickets Cry

by skeptik_225


That night, even the crickets cried. You'd have to be blind not to notice the dark gloomy shadows forming over my house. Momma's tears looked like they'd taste like salt. Full and fresh. Too bad tears are sad, at least this time. Yes, this time the tears were sad ones. Her forehead was scrunched up tight like the bumpy feel of our picket fence. But her lips were round and smooth while they trembled at the sight of blood. Oh the blood! It was flowing everywhere. From the cracks on the tile floor to the fibers on daddy's freshly pressed shirt. The red was so rich on the white it reminded me of the cherries in the summer against the cotton table cloth.

Maybe grasshoppers wept with the crickets too. They too could see the shadows growing bigger as the knife crashed to the ground. The reflection of the steel made pretty light shimmers that danced all around the kitchen. They even danced on my face. My sister's face, although her face was stone. Jaw dropped. Shocked to the point that I'm certain I'll never see her smile again. But I was smiling. Daddy came crashing down, just like the knife. But he had no light shimmers. Just stillness. Complete stillness, that was only interrupted by momma shaking him. Her salty tears mixed with his cherry blood. Do tears remove stains?

Crickets, grasshoppers and ants cried. Maybe ants were too small to cry. Or too small to notice the storm in my kitchen. Now momma's hair was dancing. Black grass flying wild over the body of a dead man. My sister's face was still the same, her eyes stuck on the blood-dripping knife. And I was still smiling. After all, momma still had the black and blue spots he painted on her skin. My sister's lip was still bigger than most lips, a feature he decided to modify. My new eye makeup doesn't go away; daddy helped me put it on with his fist.

Crickets, grasshoppers ants and snails. Yes snails. Slow, slimy ones that make the leaves yellow on the berry tree daddy planted. They cried. Momma cried. My sister cried. But I smiled. You'd have to be blind not to notice the sun shining over our house.


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Wed May 18, 2022 10:39 am
HarryHardy wrote a review...



Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening/Night(whichever one it is in your part of the world),

Hi! I'm here to leave a quick review!!

Anyway let's get right to it,

That night, even the crickets cried. You'd have to be blind not to notice the dark gloomy shadows forming over my house. Momma's tears looked like they'd taste like salt. Full and fresh. Too bad tears are sad, at least this time. Yes, this time the tears were sad ones. Her forehead was scrunched up tight like the bumpy feel of our picket fence. But her lips were round and smooth while they trembled at the sight of blood. Oh the blood! It was flowing everywhere. From the cracks on the tile floor to the fibers on daddy's freshly pressed shirt. The red was so rich on the white it reminded me of the cherries in the summer against the cotton table cloth.


Well this is quite a powerful start right here. Its not too often that you see something like this being described in rich detail and having this specific style applied to a scenario like this but so far I am loving the direction that you are managing to take things in here. I think you really do a wonderful job of grabbing the reader's attention with that style of description, even in the somewhat startling absence of a bit of emotion.

Maybe grasshoppers wept with the crickets too. They too could see the shadows growing bigger as the knife crashed to the ground. The reflection of the steel made pretty light shimmers that danced all around the kitchen. They even danced on my face. My sister's face, although her face was stone. Jaw dropped. Shocked to the point that I'm certain I'll never see her smile again. But I was smiling. Daddy came crashing down, just like the knife. But he had no light shimmers. Just stillness. Complete stillness, that was only interrupted by momma shaking him. Her salty tears mixed with his cherry blood. Do tears remove stains?


The calmness with which some of this is discovered is the really scary part here I think because this very powerful descriptions combines with that tone to set a very slow pace here and that in this context is quite a terrifying combination to behold here. I do wonder where this might be headed. With what we have so far I can make a few guesses, but all of said guesses are equally terrifying sounding here.

Crickets, grasshoppers and ants cried. Maybe ants were too small to cry. Or too small to notice the storm in my kitchen. Now momma's hair was dancing. Black grass flying wild over the body of a dead man. My sister's face was still the same, her eyes stuck on the blood-dripping knife. And I was still smiling. After all, momma still had the black and blue spots he painted on her skin. My sister's lip was still bigger than most lips, a feature he decided to modify. My new eye makeup doesn't go away; daddy helped me put it on with his fist.

Crickets, grasshoppers ants and snails. Yes snails. Slow, slimy ones that make the leaves yellow on the berry tree daddy planted. They cried. Momma cried. My sister cried. But I smiled. You'd have to be blind not to notice the sun shining over our house.


Well that certainly ended on of the more chilling notes I've experience in a story there. Wow, the very subtle way you still maintain that very gentle sounding tone and go through and detail what went on there and sort of the circumstances that lead to this is very powerful here. I have to see this makes for one very solid piece here.

Aaaaand that's it for this one.

As always remember to take what you think was helpful and forget the rest.

Stay Safe
Harry




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Wed Apr 20, 2016 6:36 pm
Regretnothing wrote a review...



Hey there!! I think you did a good job. You should be proud. I just really liked this. Short stories like this work very well just staying short, because they are powerful. I hope to see much more by you in the future. I hope you keep on writing and never get discouraged. I hope everything is going well. Feel free to message me anytime. Good luck darling.

*hugs*




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Sat Feb 26, 2005 6:47 am
Willow says...



God, I really liked this. It's really good. I don't know what to say. It has this weird muted effect on me, don't really know how to describe it.




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Sat Feb 19, 2005 9:59 am
Emma says...



Its quite relzxing in a way! Really! I loved it. I cant wait to see some more of your work.




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Fri Feb 18, 2005 2:57 am
Areida wrote a review...



Sam- it doesn't need any continuation. Some pieces are perfect when they are short and powerful like this one.

Whoa....great job. At first I didn't understand what was going on, but once I figured it out, I was hooked. It was extremely well-written and I liked all your descriptions/phrasing- they were quite clever. All and all, it was a very impressive piece.




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Fri Feb 18, 2005 2:43 am
Sam says...



Wierd...but good. I thought it was really good...and too short to really do any critiquing on. Oh well. Will there be a continuation of this?





“And how shall I think of you?' He considered a moment and then laughed. 'Think of me with my nose in a book!”
— Susanna Clarke, Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell