Eaves and Shoulders

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,

Greenwich Village is cold today, colder than one would expect in late August. The sky hangs heavy and lethargic over the city, and the wind that whipped the air from our lungs on the ferry hasn’t left us yet. Sleeves wrap around wrists, hands tremble in pockets, the fabric of our jackets and jeans shudder. Above us, pigeons roost close together in the gnarled branches of city-stunted trees, and occasionally hop closer to inspect this strange, rag-tag group of humans wandering the streets.

She’s fallen behind the group, wincing as new sneakers scrape and irritate soft skin. Five hours, they’ve been walking now; five hours in the cold. Five hours, and it still feels like they’re on the ferry; every time she looks at him, the cement sways beneath her, and when their eyes connect for brief moments, brief smiles, her stomach lurches.

They stop down a relatively quiet street, though the roar of traffic and human activity is still near enough to remind them that they aren’t hidden away in some secret universe all their own. The tour guide, red umbrella held up like a pennant, is talking about the building nearby.

With the rest of the group, she makes her way through an incongruous, white stucco arch; its rough edges are softened by an abundance of climbing flora, vibrantly green against the pallid concrete and red brick nearby. This little street, she thinks, isn’t New York City – the treacherously uneven cobblestone street, the vaguely Dutch faces the houses present, the twisting vines reaching for the cleaner air above the roofs –

“It’s beautiful,” she breathes, the pain in her feet forgotten. He catches her eye as she turns in a slow circle to absorb the unexpected elegance of this place, and after a moment in which the world cracks in two and then realigns, they smile. He loves the architecture even more than she does, this quiet boy with an artist’s hands; she can see it gleaming there, a glow far more subtle than that flush the wind has summoned to his cheeks.

Later, on the ferry again, they watch side by side as the New York skyline subsides into a hazy memory, a postcard vista; she before, he behind, their hands clutching the cold metal of the railing a careful distance apart. She glances over her shoulder; his eyes are there, ready to meet hers, and she, too, glows. Eaves and shoulders – they’re the same thing, aren’t they?

She leans back against him so gently, so tentatively, the motion an unspoken question; he finds he enjoys the warmth she exudes, and moves his hand closer to hers on the balustrade.

I thought brevity would serve better in this case; we didn't speak much, really just spent the whole six hours walking side by side and enjoying the Village together, aside from a few short exchanges like the one last mentioned. If it was any longer, I felt like it would be rather superfluous.

Thanks, guys!

Cassandra: I see what you mean about the long sentences; I'll do a bit of editing later and see what I can do to make that better.

Imp: Yes, this is the first time they've - we've - spent much time together; it's actually based almost entirely (I only took out some unrelated events for the sake of length, and all speech and events actually occurred) on yesterday's events; my freshman orientation group went into the Village, and it was the first time I'd spent much time with one of the guys in my class... broke through the writer's block. ^_^

I thought brevity would serve better in this case; we didn't speak much, really just spent the whole six hours walking side by side and enjoying the Village together, aside from a few short exchanges like the one last mentioned. If it was any longer, I felt like it would be rather superfluous.

Neat short - a sketch, Fand? The place almost became the main character so prominent was it, and so well described. ^_^ But it wouldn't have been much without character thougts and emotions...

“It’s beautiful,” she breathes, the pain in her feet forgotten. He catches her eye as she turns in a slow circle to absorb the unexpected elegance of this place, and after a moment in which the world cracks in two and then realigns, they smile. He loves the architecture even more than she does, this quiet boy with an artist’s hands; she can see it gleaming there, a glow far more subtle than that flush the wind has summoned to his cheeks.

Wow.

This is great. First of all, there is an utter lack of spelling and grammatical errors, which made for a very enjoyable read. And secondly, the whole thing was simply beautiful. I often find myself cringing at lengthy descriptions, and this piece was almost all description. But you used it perfectly. This wasn't so adverb-y and flowy that you lose the readers with short attention spans like me--it was just right. I honestly can't think of ways to express in words how much I liked this.

My only suggestion would be To break up some of the sentences you have attached with semi-colons. Not all of them, mind you. Just a couple here and there. This sentence, for example, is really long:

Five hours, they’ve been walking now; five hours in the cold. Five hours, and it still feels like they’re on the ferry; every time she looks at him, the cement sways beneath her, and when their eyes connect for brief moments, brief smiles, her stomach lurches.