Constructive reviews will be most welcomed, for this is only a draft. Part I and III should be up soon enough.
Big, heavy rain drops are falling lazily from the dark sky, forcing the crowds of the busy street under umbrellas of all shapes and colors, while the less-fortunate ones do their best of staying dry using bags and newspapers. The wind starts blowing faster and faster, almost like trying to clear the streets, pushing everybody from behind. Maybe he knows what’s coming. The sun is nowhere to be seen.
Every now and then, the streets are lit up by scary flashes of light, followed by loud thunders, muffling the sound of water being splashed by fast footsteps and hot wheels. From the grown ups driving their cars, to their kids fussing on the backseat; from the birds looking for their next meal in this concrete jungle, to the smallest bugs crawling into the cracks of the sidewalk – they all feel that this is going to be a big one.
One last thunder and everything starts moving in slow-motion on the ground level. One rain drop lets go and falls from the sky like a kamikaze terrorist, reaching amazing speeds and enjoying life for exactly fifteen seconds. It hits a red traffic light and splashes into a dozen of other smaller rain drops. And so it begins.
As soon as the traffic lights turn green, the cars resume their race towards the next intersection, their engines sounding like an angry mob, screaming and protesting against their forever hurried drivers. A thunder reduces them all to silence, as the next set of lights turn red and they’re all lined up once more, like horses at a hippodrome; panting and hitting the ground with their hooves, not allowed to step past the blurred, black and white line.
The crossing zebra is almost unrecognizable; an Atlantis from the bird’s eye view, lost under the murky water that keeps increasing its level with each fallen drop. The red traffic lights reflect in the running water below, making it seem like it is cleansing this part of the world, washing all of its bloody sins away, into the sewers.
A wave of honking and cusswords erupts as the lights change colors but the race is still on hold: a grey pair of soaked sneakers are clumsily making their way through the holy stream of water, to the other side of the road.
Wet, blue-faded jeans are wrapped tightly around the skinny legs, pointy knees sticking out through the homemade cuts, sore from the cold and revolted against the fashion. The XL size hoodie covers the jeans’ pockets with its length and seems to be able to offer shelter to at least one more person. While a hood is keeping most of the rain at bay, drops of water fall from her wet bangs, trickling down her freckled nose and cracked lips.
Cars rush forward behind the girl, their angry skids being completely muffled away by the tune playing in her earphones, the lyrics on her lips an indecipherable whisper, lost in this symphony of hard pouring rain and earth shuddering thunders.
Grey tower blocks stand still as mountains to the right, somber and expressionless. Each one of her hurried steps splashes water around, drowning her feet momentarily before resurfacing them. This cruel torture comes to a halt, as she stops in front of one of the buildings, hands fiddling inside the pockets, looking for the keys.
Splosh-splosh. The cold, dim lit stairwell welcomes her with no lost love, as she makes her way up the stairs, leaving muddy footprints behind. Her shadow hurries confidently forward across the white wall, taking five steps while she takes one; reaching the first floor when she was only halfway there.
Splosh-splosh. Three floors later, she enters a dark corridor, silent as a tomb and unwelcoming as a sterile womb. A tired light bulb casts a weak, faint light from the other end of the hallway – at a first glance, the whole scene seems to be rudely copying a Hitchcock film. Her shadow lost all its previous boldness and is now tiptoeing behind her, as quiet as one can be, as she approaches the last door on the left.
Splosh-cling-clang. The slushy, swampy trail stops just outside of apartment 27; the familiar ringing of the keys breaks the silence, a sound most common for ears like these walls have. The door swings open with a monotone, bored squeaking, and who can blame it? Opening and closing itself all day long isn’t quite the most exciting routine one can experience.
Once the door is closed and the lights are on, her shadow stretches victorious across the white floor, a gargantuan shape amidst the other shadows in the room. An umbrella stand falls down, as the girl throws her backpack around carelessly; the shoes join it, splattering mud on the floor. Soft voice echoes the rebellious lyrics screamed over an angry rock’n roll rhythm in her earphones, while her hand grabs and turns the closest doorknob to the left, black nails contrasting with the milky color of the door. It swings open and she stops dead in her tracks.
The bathroom is in the same, sparkling condition that her father had loved it: spotless shower cabin in the center, looking brand new; a gleaming sink on the right; next to it, a water boiler – its pipes going up on the spotless wall, making a left where they met the ceiling and running along it until the opposite side, disappearing into the wall. The only oddity is the rope tied to it, wrapped around the neck of a hanged, naked man.
She blinks twice, three times rapidly, her pupils dilating more and more as fear spreads through her mind like a virus. The man seemed to share a handful of features with her father, though the latter would have never shaven his head, like this one had. Her father was a strict, old-school type of man – a real stuck up, if she ever knew one – proud of his rich, blonde hair and beard. This one had even shaven his eyebrows and chest hair, along with his arms and legs.
Unwilling to accept the truth looming in the back of her mind, the girl turns her attention towards one other object that didn’t belong in this room: carefully placed on top of the toilet seat, as if to not be overlooked, lies a tape recorder.
"Of all shapes and colors"
Describe some shapes and colors of these umbrellas. And I really have never seen an umbrella that had a different shape from the usually "umbrella" shape... so you could say "sizes" or maybe just leave it to colors. Or make up a randomly new shape for an umbrella.
"while the less-fortunate ones do their best of staying dry using bags and newspapers"
Use some boring wordage here. Try adding in some more descriptive and exciting vocab: "While the less- fortunate scurry chaotically under the protection of newspapers and bags" Just sounds better and smoother to me at least.
"scary flashes"
Come come now, you can definitely find a more descriptive word then just "scary," look it up in a thesaurus!
"they all feel that this is going to be a big one"
Ok this is an incredibly awkwardly worded line. Try using "anticipate" instead of "feel" and work around from there.
"screaming and protesting against their forever hurried driver"
Ok this is worded a little awkwardly but I love the personification and imagery you use here. I want to see much more of that in your writing, well done. Also well done on the shattering of the rain drop.
great use of holy waters and washing all the sins away. That is excellent imagery for which you need more in the beginning of this piece. You got the amazing writing in you, no apply it!
"the lyrics on her lips an indecipherable whisper"
Excellent, love that line. Although I would take off "indecipherable whisper" because I just love the idea of lyrics being on someone's lips so much. Great line there.
"welcomes her with no lost love"
I'm sorry? Not sure I understand this line. Definitely clarify for the reader.
"her black nails contrasting with the milky color of the door"
Ok... You should take this line out. You have excellent descriptors but at some point it gets to be a little too much. Sometimes I often have the same issue.
That third to last paragraph is so incredibly awkwardly phrased it desperately needs to be re written. So did her Father leave the bathroom in a perfect condition... or is it now in a perfect condition as it usually isn't? Or is it now messy? Gotta clarify those things.
"though the latter would have never shaven his head"
????? I have no idea what to make of this line.
This girl seems to have a pretty mild reaction to the fact that she found a dead body hanging by a rope in her bathroom.... I would be flipping out majorly. She may be someone who doesn't have many facial expressions and doesn't reveal her feelings... but there has to be something that triggers internally within herself about: wtf is this?!
So this is a good piece, slow start but once you get into the descriptors well done. Good writing for the most part. You might have to cut out some descriptors though because it makes your piece a little too jumbled at times. Let me know if you need anything else reviewed! Terribly sorry for taking so long. Keep up the good work!!
TuckEr EllsworTh
Hey mihaivisan!
After my little fail pre-reviewing this piece I am finally here. So let's get down to business!
Nit-picks first I guess -
1. - 'The wind starts blowing faster and faster, almost like trying to clear the streets, pushing everybody from behind.' - The middle part of this sentence is a touch clunky. I think it might work better either by identifying the wind again so 'The wind starts blowing faster and faster, almost like its trying to clear the streets' or you could go with something like 'The wind starts blowing faster and faster, as though trying to clear the streets'
2. - 'The sun is nowhere to be seen.' - This feels really tacked on the end here. Maybe try and see if you can expand it or incorporate it somewhere else in the description.
3 - You keep saying thunder or thunders a lot. I think it might be nice if you try to describe the thunder a little more rather than just relying on the word. Not excessively so though! Just think about words like rumbling, crashing, booming, stuff like that.
4 - 'Soft voice echoes the rebellious lyrics screamed over an angry rock’n roll rhythm' - Doesn't really make sense to start a sentence this way. If I were being real picky I'd wanna put 'A' at the front of the sentence.
General notes -
So I found the beginning couple of paragraphs a little clunky and difficult to get on with but somewhere after that you seemed to pick up your stride a little and it began to flow and became easier to read. It might be an idea just to go over the opening, see if you can smooth it out because, afterall, that's where you want to make your impact.
I think that this paragraph is probably the most clunky - 'Every now and then, the streets are lit up by scary flashes of light, followed by loud thunders, muffling the sound of water being splashed by fast footsteps and hot wheels. From the grown ups driving their cars, to their kids fussing on the backseat; from the birds looking for their next meal in this concrete jungle, to the smallest bugs crawling into the cracks of the sidewalk – they all feel that this is going to be a big one.'
You repeat 'by' three times in one sentence and then later repeat 'from the'. I think sometimes repetition has its place but here I found it a little jarring.
Whilst you describe really well and mostly it flows...sometimes I couldn't help feeling like you were over describing. Almost like you were describing every detail you could with these metaphors and sometimes I began to skim. Sometimes I feel like less is more but that might be more of a preference sort of thing. I don't like to be prescribed every little detail when I am reading. I want to use my imagination as well.
On the plus side, the introduction of the hanging body took me off guard and I liked that. Too often on this site I find stories very predictable and know exactly what's gonna happen. So I liked being surprised. Also where you left it was interesting and well done. Of course now I want to know what's on the recorder. So there we have a hook. Hooks are good.
However, I had to traipse through all that thunderstorm description to get to the hook. At this moment I am not sure what the point was of quite that much description of the thunderstorm. I like the atmosphere, I'm just not sure if I like being without the main character for that long while you describe the thunderstorm in every conceivable way you can.
Also I think I wish I would've been in the girl's head a little longer before she makes the discovery. All I felt was my surprise at that twist rather than hers if that makes sense.
Of course I have no idea where this is going or what you're going to come up with next. So it's slightly difficult to comment on pacing or character properly without an overall view of the story. I could not know that you have a particular reason for describing the thunderstorm that much and so on.
Anyway, I'll stop rambling now. I hope that was at all useful! PM me if you have any questions.
Bex x
constructive review, thanks!
I
I'll only address the "I like the atmosphere, I'm just not sure if I like being without the main character for that long while..." part: the story doesn't have a main character. I'd say.. the details themselves are the spotlight, at least that's how I tried to write it. the girl is just another pawn on the chessboard
Hmm interesting. I wondered if all the description was some sort of master plan you had over the entire piece. I'd be interested to see how it all slots together. I want to see if that disconnect between the character and the details worked.
Ha! Haters gonna hate, but i really loved this one. Hehehhe
I know I reviewed and edited this piece already, but I still feel like praising you.
My first thought is that the big storm is like a fantastic symphony of colors, chaotic noise and cinematic imagery that leads to a more impacting scene.
As always every little detail, objects and animals gain life in your descriptions, what is incredibly interesting and allowed me to visualize perfectly the whole scene. The scheme of the description sequences are like the movements of a camera, going from the point of view of a bug, to the driver's, to a raindrop and then comes the main subject: a careless, stylish young woman going back home among all that chaos.
It may seem I'm just bragging passionately about how good and promising this short story (and its sequences) is, but so waht,I really loved and wanted to congratulate you!
(As the haters can hate, I guess I can love a lot, right? hehehahe)
So, once again, good job!
Keep writing cause this piece is very promising!
With love,
Le Wife.
The best reviews always come from the best.
Lots of kisses!