Patriot

Hey GML

I enjoyed reading that. I felt bad for the MC when the man turned out to be such a grumpy old guy! Anyhoo, here's the comments The italics are what I added to it

1. I cried. nice start!! Catches the attention directly


2. Thick, black words were painted across the flag that each year I tried to read but couldn’t. The only word I ever saw on the flag was FREE. You say you couldn't read them, and then suddenly you can. This doesn't make sense


3.I drove below below him? Sounds odd. him each year, on my trip to my hometown, and back again that same night.

4.I never got a good glimpse of his face, driving as I was. I liked to imagine him with the face of a long ago soldier, whiskers whiskers?framing the mouth, eyes still clear and bold from younger years, bones giving the face a distinction What do you mean?, though the skin is beginning to sag.

5. My tears continued in awe of such a patriot this sentence doesn't really flow.

6. With much difficulty, my “I think I can” What do you mean by this?vehicle turned itself around, up the exit, onto the bridge, and headed toward the man’s annual spot.

7. A pinkish-gray line moved up and down like a cow chewing grass Where is this line?.


This was another good story You're really original with what you write, which I think is really cool.

Hope the review is of use to you!

XxxDo

Thank you all very much.

I'll definitely do some changes according to your comments, scasha. Those were very helpful comments indeed.

Hey GML! Here's my review key:
Red = Comments
Bold = words/phrases/sentences that I think could work better.
Onto the review

GML wrote:I cried.

Every year it was the same. Him standing atop the highway bridge, letting eyes drift toward him, letting sweat run down his face, letting that one, proud symbol flap crisply in the air if there was wind. No wind, and the cloth hung limp to sleep against its pole. I know you're emphasizing repetition here, but I don't know if I entirley like the letting part, but that's just me. Change it or keep it, it's your choice

Red, white, and blue sang in the melodies of the sky I don't think that the sky has melody unles your talking about the wind. You could say that the Red, white, and blue sang it's own melody to the sky . Two weathered hands grasped the wood of the pole, the rough edges splintering his tough skin. Thick, black words were painted across the flag that each year I tried to read but couldn’t. The only word I ever saw on the flag was FREE. Oooooh I like it

When the fine dust of firecrackers wandered up my nostrils wandered doesn't really seem to work here. Try to find another word, maybe instead you could say I inhaled, breathing the fine dust of firecrackers into my nostrils. Also I looked and this sentence feels very incomplete/runon. Split up your ideas The sumptuous colors of the [s]unruly[/s] Chinese invention graced the night, and freckled boys of ten and twelve stood on the curb yelling, “Hey! Hey there!” as the parade marched on, I knew it was time. I would see the man.

Yes, the man. Yes, that patriot.

I drove below him each year, [s]on my trip to my hometown, and back again that same night[/s] This sentence feels awkward . He stood on the bridge spanning the highway. He never seemed to move, even though the flag he held did. And how it moved! Through heavy winds it glided outward—SNAP!—inward once more. Or it would laze about, perking up with a ruffle at the sporadic breeze.

I never got a good glimpse of his face, driving as I was. I liked to imagine him with the face of a long ago soldier, whiskers framing the mouth, eyes still clear and bold from younger years, bones giving the face a distinction, though the skin is beginning to sag. I love your description but this sentence is a bit too long. Split up your ideas That would be him, alright. Always raising the flag in a tired yet sincere salute to his country.

My tears continued in awe of such a patriot. What a hero! Surely he had a secret or a story to tell. Some knowledge, some insight. Yet all I saw was a glance of him each year.

I had grown accustomed to seeing him on the bridge in the sunlight. This year was no exception. A second’s glimpse, gas chugging—swissshhh. Under the bridge, out of sight, never out of mind. These two sentences feel a little incomplete.Maybe say: I took a second glimpse, but his majestic frame disappeared as I chugged under the bridge. Even though I couldn't see him, I could never get him out of my mind. The tears began to dry on my cheeks as I made the wild decision to meet my hero.

With much difficulty, my “I think I can” vehicle turned itself around, up the exit, onto the bridge, and headed toward the man’s [s]annual[/s] He's there all the time though right? spot.

My car door slammed, and I hopped out. His back was to me, stone still. The flag wiggled clumsily in the breeze.

“Hullo, sir. Eh—I just wanted to tell you, how much I—uh, how much I take to heart what you do each year...”

He turned. You could call his face a grayish mush; I couldn’t tell what were his features and what was his skin. His eyes—small, sunken-in gray pockets that watered and dripped constantly. A pinkish-gray line moved up and down like a cow chewing grass. Hair poked out of his nose and ears, and a few tufts prickled off of his chin.

“Whaddya want?” he said, [s]almost[/s] barking in his gruff tone[s]s[/s].

“Um, I just-”

“Listen, you better not be one of those people who say that our country is great, our country is fine, and that I should go somewhere else.” His mashed potato and gravy face meshed I don't really like the word meshed here around a bit.

“I’m not sure I quite understand...”

Crack! The wind whipped through.

And the flag, reading: YOU CALL THIS COUNTRY FREE?

“I’m—I’m sorry. I think I, uh, thought you were someone else.”

This is a very good story. You described everything very well and got us into the main character's head. Maybe a little more description could flesh it out a bit, but I'm not going to make that a major quibble. No spelling or grammatical errors either, as far as I can see.

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