Young Writers Society

As requested, Lady M, here is your review! c:

Oh, this is different! I apologize if this isn't the best review-- I struggle with reviewing short pieces sometimes =P

So, by making inferences and doing some guesswork, I'm gonna say that this work probably relates to a World War Two esque environment as you specifically mentioned U-boats, so I am even happier that the narrator has somehow survived than Nazi soldiers (although in general I'm not really a fan of death unless it's characters, cause you know I'm like that XD). It's a really interesting piece, but I'm not really sure what constructive criticism I can give you!

Have a nice [*insert time of day here*]!!!

Hi Lady! Spunky here to review!

Grows:

Death is stood on the threshold...

A bitter sweet victory, knowing you'll live a few more minutes, but sadness at the lost souls sinking in the watery grave.

Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening/Night(whichever one it is in your part of the world),

Hi! I'm here to leave a review!!

First Impression: This is a really great piece despite being so short and I am loving it on the first read. I think you capture quite a bit of emotion despite its length and that's great to see.

Anyway let's get right to it,

The sharp scent of salt fills your lungs as your breaths increase. One of the most dreaded words to say in the Black Pit was shouted. Periscope spotted

Eyes strained, scanning the violent sea, ears open, listening to the sonar's fast-paced report.

Your heart races, acutely aware of the immense danger that could be near.

Death is stood on the threshold to your soul, you wonder if he will snatch it in mere seconds or if you will live a few more.

Panic rises as sonar hurriedly reports a U-boat position. Your brain registers the information meer seconds before you shout out orders. Mines tumbles over into the depths where the enemy lurks.

A tense few seconds pass, wondering if the thing you'll see is the musty, fridged bridge.

A shout echos. Oil. Oil has been spotted beside the ship.

You race out onto the deck, spotting the slick oil.

A bitter sweet victory, knowing you'll live a few more minutes, but sadness at the lost souls sinking in the watery grave.