The Garden of Thornless Roses

Hello!

I love this. It's like a feast for me, because I'm reading about this young beautiful couple in this amazing garden and it's being described wonderfully. Seriously, I want to overdose on it. But I can't. Sadly. Anyway.

Thing is, (and I'm assuming you aren't meaning to continue it) I have no idea what's going on here. They're breaking up, right? No, they're leaving together? And they can't stay together because he doesn't fit into her world, with her mansion, but then he says that he fits in like a puzzle piece? It's a bit too confusing. And I think it was meant to be mysterious, right? But I think you should at least hint at the reason they have to leave - is Nathan too poor, too lower-class for her family? Is there some kind of feudal history between the parents (like Romeo and Juliet!)? Etc etc. Otherwise it's hard to end this thinking anything but "Wow, the writing is great, but uh...what?"

Do with it what you will, of course. ^__^
PM me if you have any questions, and I'm looking forward to reading some more of your work!
-Mars x

Hello, Coffee_and_Karma. I must say, the title drew me in instantly. I hope the story lives up to it && I'm sure it will.
Right, I'll comment as I read.

She reaches down and gently plucks a rose from [s]the[/s] its vine, twirling its young, oddly thornless stem between her fingers.How does it feel, what are the textures? Get our senses going It spins like a delicate lady in a music box I like this image a lot; two petals detach, and are carried down to the ground by invisible hands. She steps forward and one is trapped beneath her heel. She crushes it. Well done. Sentence variation.


Lifting the flower to her face and inhaling deeply, she gives me a coy smile, half hidden behind her light pink rose. Her eyes never leave my face. Ah, crafty. I thought this was going to be a third-person story.



“You know, I don’t think I can go on like this.” I'm guessing she is the one speaking?


“How? What do you mean?”


The flower topples from her fingers, landing forgotten on the cobblestones. Maybe say what her fingers do next? Her her arms fall to her sides or do her fingers link together? Make us, the readers, feel in the know.


“I think…” She leans forward conspiratorially. I smell a fleeting whiff whiff is an ugly word, and for me at least indicates a bad smell! how about 'scent'? of spicy vanilla I'd change that to 'vanilla spice' because it sounds more alluring, no more than the ghost of a scent oh, maybe ignore my suggestion of scent, as you use it here, lost in the heavy aroma of roses. I spot a particularly odorous one behind her back, its large red head glowering at me. Can you say anything of its colours? “This isn’t going anywhere, Nathan. I think you know that.”


The roses seem to twine together behind me, blocking any route of escape. Now is the time when she will leave me, standing alone in the sprawling gardens with no company but her terrible roses. is he imagining that, or can this guy tell the future? Or is he presuming?


“Honey. Sweetie.” She pauses, pondering how to say what I know she will say now. “You know we can’t take this anywhere if we stay here.” She spreads her arms wide as if to indicate not only her carefully regulated garden, her imposing mansion, but the whole world we live in. I like, I like“They won’t let us.”


She is right, but I don’t want to acknowledge it. We do not make a suitable couple, my half of the duo especially.


“We have to leave.” Make it clear who is speaking. It slows the reading, having to keep checking who says what. This does not have to be done explicitly


I don’t want to leave. I love life, where I fit like a puzzle piece into the background, perfectly snug. A dapper gentleman hidden in the tapestry of perfection.


Her innocent eyes peer at me, pleading. I don’t want to see pain in those pale blue pools eek, reeks of cliche. “Please?” she asks. “Don’t you love me enough?”


I want to stay, so badly, and yet another part of me is yearning for her. I make my decision. Little more info would be nice.


“I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth, luv.” I'm sorry but I found this sentence a tad cringe-inducing. Very Mills & Boon. You can do better. Honestly, if someone said that to me, I'd laugh in his face. And another thing, why spell 'luv', not 'love'?


She smiles, and it breaks her face like the sunrise, turning coldness to unspeakable beauty. Her fingers twine in mine and I catch the scent of vanilla again, sharp and much too strong, floating in the air around her.

I feel a final pang of loss and despair, piercing me in my lower belly like a spear, as we make our escape from the garden of thornless roses. Wicked concluding sentence. Some might moan that it's not short and snappy enough, but I think it fits perfectly.

Hi Coffee_and_Karma, the names lilymoore, but you can just call me lil, or lily, whatever works. First off, I really should not be creeping in the forums because I have contest submissions that are long overdue. But here I am anyway.

And I have to say that that this piece shows a lot of potential taking into consideration that this is your first piece in the literature forums. I have to say that there wasn’t anything I could find that was wrong with this entire story except one, and that was in the ending:

I feel a final pang of loss and despair, piercing me in my lower belly like a spear, as we make our escape from the garden of thornless roses.