Pure beauty- prologue
He stood, age twenty-eight, trembling like a child in the kitchen window. No longer could he hear the blowing of a summer breeze through the crack in the whitewash window, or see the emerald blades of grass or silk, purple petals of the pansies in the flower beads. All he could hear when he closed his eyes was the screeching of shells over his head and the piercing scream of metal on metal, worst of all was their cry, they who had endured six years of torture and now resembled skeletons, in clothes that they dreamed of drowning them like the sea. All he could see was the crimson red of running blood against the dull grey of a concrete floor; the death that had surrounded him consumed his existence in every sense and clouded his view of beauty, her beauty.
Would he ever remember the flowing river of her voice or the taste of her lips on him? She was his light, the only pure image still clear in his mind. Sweet honey curls rolled gently down to her shoulders, lips as red as summer strawberries parted and curled up in the warmest smile that only showed for him, eyes like sliced apples creased in the corners, just for him. From her collar bone, to her chest, to her hips and down her legs to her calves, it all flowed in perfection like the purest waters, ready for him to taste. It was the way that she had dressed that had first made him love her like he did; bright colours and rainbows illuminated her and lifted her from the crowd. Hands still quaking as if the ground itself was trying to shake her from him, he held them tight as if holding onto the thought of her. Should he let her go? Open his arms and set free her beauty and perfection like any devoted lover should?
As if sensing his fragility slender fingers began the climb of his forearms and clasped his fingers so that there was no way that they could quiver anymore. A soft, warm cheek leant against his left shoulder and warmed to his spine, ensuring that even there the trembling would stop and relief washed over him like the sea, calming yet strong. “Please sit, let me look after you.” Just then he was complete, with the close of his eyes he could once again hear the sound of birds on the breeze and the warmth of the sun against his skin, colours shone brighter than ever, rejuvenated in glorious light.
She led him now, as if he were a child, to the table and sat him down. She faced him, so close that he could see the length of her lashes and the freckles on her cheeks. Noses, foreheads, lips, they connected like pieces of a puzzle that fit perfectly. Their lips brushed as she asked him the question that he had longed for, “Daniel my dear, may I kiss you?” The lines of their lips were sealed and their bodies interlocked as she sat on his lap and their humming bird heartbeats created an orchestra of passion. His hands held in the small of her back in desperation, as if soon she would disappear. The chill of her small fingers drew lines in the hair on the back of his neck and sent shivers down his spine. He wanted to stay there forever and watch her grow, as he had and keep her from harm.
It was her who gently pulled away and stood to once again face out of the window and smile at the street in front of her. Without her there, holding them his hands began to shake but less so for her presence. She was a woman now, not the child that he had left behind some six years ago, crying on his sleeve and holding on so tight, willing to never let go. It was Christmas when he had cruelly left this loving girl for glory, for war, for death. Now older she had a hold on him, that reduced him to that childlike state that she herself had once been in. What would he be if not for her? Dead? Her photo against his heart had kept bullets and bombs and metal from tearing it, him from her. The heat from the cup of tea she placed in his hands was nothing compared to that of her skin on his.
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125,018 Literary Works • 672,861 Reviews
"They who have endured six years of torture and now resembled skeletons..."
Ok this line sounds a little awkward. Maybe you mean "Those.." instead of they. Unless you're talking about the group hiding in the basement like area. In which case you need to take out the "who" in the line.
"In clothes they dreamed of drowning them like the sea"
Ok this makes no sense at all. You can drown people in the sea... but you can't drown people like the sea. Thats like saying "I kill people like Alabama" which really doesn't seem to make much sense.
"crimson red of running blood"
ah man missing out on a major opportunity to be super imaginative!!!! I want to know what it smells like, is the blood sticky, try some more exciting words, the trickling of crimson life dripping slithering along the wall and dripping on the concrete floor. Something along the lines of that.
"taste of her lips on him"
Just say taste of her lips... thats like saying "boy oh boy I sure remember the taste of that steak on me" It just sounds a little odd.
"ready for him to taste"
eeekkkk! No no, not a smart word choice here. When you describe how beautiful a girl or man is you don't follow it up with "boy oh boy I'd sure like to get a taste of her," thats an immediate tip off that that person is being superficial.
"he could once again hear"
This is awkward, you should say: He could hear the sound of birds again. Or something along the lines of that.
"may I kiss you?"
May I kiss you? Interesting choice, I sure as heck don't ask my boyfriend if I can kiss him and he wouldn't ask me, it just happens. I'd cut that line out. Good imagery of the Daniel hanging on desperately to the girl so she won't disappear.
Ok interesting piece, your writing style grammatically is a little misplaced. Usually you're words are in weird places which makes the reading difficult for your audience. Clarify your writing and then the imagery and what not will come smoothly after. let me know if you need another review, keep up the good work!
TuckEr EllsworTh
Hey there, Ellen!
But small tip: Dialogue should be it's own paragraph, not conjoined with other details. Rules, blah.
Oh how I wish I could edit your grammar. If you ever want me to, please find me and tell me. I'd be more than willing to help out 
I'm not going to do one of my typical grammar and spell check review this time, instead I'm going to review the content you've place forth for me to enjoy.
Spoiler
First of all, this doesn't really seem like a prologue; It reads much more like a short story, whether that be a good or bad thing is up to you. A prologue would introduce a character, or tell a history, or something of the sort. What you do here is talk about the relationship between two characters. While that's not necessarily a bad thing, it just feel like it's leading into something bigger, which is what a prologue should do.
Now this may sound contradicting, but it also feels incomplete. The statement you left us with leaves us feeling like you just stopped writing. It's not to the point where a new chapter would be introduced, but it's still a slice of the pie missing.
What I really noticed you were flip-flopping with, was your descriptions. At some points you were able to paint a clear picture in my mind, and in others you had me trying to figure out if I was reading everything right. I think the latter would be later on in the passage, maybe after you were a bit tired of writing. It happens to the best of us and I'm sure you can fix it through a bit of editing.
Overall you have a nice piece, just incorrectly named (for now). hopefully if you can fix your small mistakes this piece would be much more lovely.
Keep on writing.
Spoiler
Hi 787ellen!
This was an interesting read. Like beckiw, what stood out the most to me in this short piece was your description. Throughout most of the piece it's pretty well done, and I have a pretty clear image of what's going on. You have to try to be careful to not be too over the top, though. Things like "lips as red as summer strawberries" and the example becki mentioned are kind of overdoing it. While it's true that you should show and not tell and you should paint a clear image for the reader, don't make it the most important thing in your piece. Usually the best books are the ones that tell their stories honestly, and simply.
As for content, I think there is a little work you can do. This is only the prologue, so there could be a lot that happens that I'm not aware about. But as it stands, this isn't very interesting and I don't see why these characters are so different from the infinite pairs of lovers in the literary world? I read this twice, and at this point I'm not sure what the conflict is supposed to be. If the story is going to focus solely in their romance, it might be a good idea to add other subplots because usually stories solely about romance don't tend to be very interesting.
A lot of writers will stick prologues at the beginning of works when they're not really necessary; either the information can be stuck at the beginning of a first chapter or it can be cut entirely. At this point, I don't see why you can't do the former with the information in this story.
Anyway, hope this helps! Feel free to shoot me a PM if you have any questions.
Hey Ellen!
Let's have a look at your story then!
The thing that stuck out to me was your description. Whilst in some places it was quite impacting and very nicely done, in other places it just fell flat. It kind of felt like you were trying too hard to be pretty and to create this imagery and it didn't really work. One example of this would be the line - 'eyes like sliced apples creased in the corners' - That just conjures very weird imagery in my head. I'm thinking of apples creasing rather than her eyes. I'd never imagine someone describing anyone's eyes like apples. It just seems really out of place. Also this one - 'in clothes that they dreamed of drowning them like the sea.' - I don't really understand what you mean by this? Do you mean that they don't like the fact that the clothes are drowning them? Because to me the usage of the word 'dreaming' makes it seem like it's something they like.
So just be careful to try not to force these phrases into being otherwise, rather than filling your story with lovely images and symbolism, you just end up with a scramble of weird imagery that doesn't really click.
Took me a little while to twig where he was. This is probably my own denseness. I know that you are conveying in his head what he is feeling and experiencing, this throw back to a time of war but I think it might be good to have some little hints of the place he is in. Maybe he can falter and grip onto a kitchen counter, maybe he can hear something that doesn't fit in with the war he sees in his mind's eye. Just dropping these little hints would help ground the piece more I think.
But generally I like the whole concept and the connection he feels to his sweetheart. It's a really nice piece
Hope that was helpful! If you have any questions then feel free to PM me.
Bex x