Beware, for there lies a cuss word ahead.
***
Over Coffee
'Threads of Fate' was a rather small structure situated in front of the bustling main road of Calcrete City, towered over by its two neighbours: a nameless apartment complex and the newly refurbished mall. The small establishment housed coffee, lattes, and cuppa chinos for the sleep deprived, not yet awake and those in need of something saturated with caffeine in order to kick start their day, as well as pastries for the sweet-toothed and a traditional bacon and eggs breakfast for those who either could not work a kitchen or wanted something on the go; a typical cafe. The scent of coffee and something homely and undeniably sweet permeated the atmosphere, drawing in curious newcomers and potential customers amongst the regulars whom frequented the cafe at certain times of a certain day.
It was 12:38pm - give or take as time varied from clock to clock - on a Saturday when Touya found herself seated on the back, right-hand corner table, just beside the two ferns, conversing with Noah.
The atmosphere was grim, almost tense in a sense but not quite. There was a strained silence that stretched on and on and on. Both occupants of the secluded table shifted uncomfortably in their seats, not necessarily because they were uncomfortable with each other but more because they were uncomfortable with the subject at hand.
It was Touya who eventually broke the silence.
Her entire body slumped back, head rolling sluggishly to the side as her dark brown -almost crimson in colour- orbs studied the potted fern beside her in a nonchalant manner.
"How long has it been since?" Her tongue darted out, wetting her chapped lips.
Noah's lips were pursed together forming a grim line as his brows furrowed ever so slightly.
"Around a month or so... I guess," Noah let out a breath through his nose. He watched in a detached manner as particles of dust, as light as butterflies, danced upon the meagre beams of light that illuminated their little corner. It was a cloudy day that day.
"I guess," he repeated, more or less to himself, because there really wasn't much left to say that hadn't already been spoken or understood.
There was another silence, just a little more comfortable than the last. Both of them let the last words hang in the air, took a moment to wait for the ringing in their ears to stop before picking up the conversation again.
"It's not your fault you know," she was craning her neck, head sliding a bit more to her left, making just enough eye contact in order to not seem rude. But considering how long they've been friends, the courtesy, though appreciated, was completely unnecessary. “It’s not your fault,” she reiterated, just to emphasise her point.
Noah seemed almost sceptical.
Unperturbed, Touya continued, “I mean, either way, you would’ve had to eventually pull the plug, right?”
He sighed once again for the umpteenth time that day; he’d been doing that a lot lately.
“Yeah,” he breathed, “maybe.” It was still hard for him to accept though.
She’d died. All that laughter and liveliness, all those smiles, mischievous sea foam orbs and that constant pout, everything was snuffed out, her soul, snuffed out. Sometimes it made him wonder, if something like that happened to someone like her, was there any hope for him at all? He really hoped so.
“Hey, don’t get yourself down.” Touya was sitting up straight now and there was that little crease between her brows, the type that made its appearance whenever something typically worried her. Oh right, he was moping again, wasn’t he?
“I’m not,” he curtly rebutted. It was times like these that in some way or another, made him feel as if he was completely overwhelmed. Too much sympathy, too much pity, so many reminders and just not enough time for him to nurse his wounds and allow himself that one moment to drown himself in a trench of his own self-pity, because he deserved at least that much.
“Yes you are,” she insisted.
“No I’m not”
“You are”
“Shut up.” The words came out as a hiss, barely above a whisper. Touya spluttered.
“Wha-?!”
“Just stop it!” Because he didn’t want to deal with it, no more pity, empty words of comfort. He couldn’t stand it anymore. SNAP, went his line of reasoning. “So what if I’m depressed?! So what if I can’t accept the fact that she- that she fucking died?! SO WHAT?!” He was vaguely aware of a fist slamming against the table and the tell-tale burn of various stares boring into his back, “Why would you care?! You don’t understand a SINGLE THING!”
Touya’s befuddled gaze instantly morphed into one of justified displeasure. The crease between her brows deepened as her brows furrowed perceptibly.
Her fingers curled into the faded denim of her jeans and her dark brown eyes were now three shades more crimson than brown.
“Don’t think you’re the only one mourning Karen’s death!” she barked out.
“I…,” Noah deflated visibly because he was abruptly reminded that he wasn’t the only one who’d lost something important. She did understand. She knew exactly what she was talking about and he knew that she knew because she’d been through far too much to not know.
Noah had shakily brushed off his rather uncharacteristic display of anger and returned back to his usual soft and –as of lately- melancholy self by the time Touya had regained her bearings. “I… just miss her, that’s all.”
“I do too”
The silence that proceeded was the closest thing they could ever get to comfortable when such an uncomfortable subject was broached. It was solemn and they both took that one moment to recall the one known as Karen, conjure up the forever youthful image frozen in time by death and silently mourn their own losses.
The lover and the best friend, talking things over coffee, what a sight they would’ve made.
It was alien, those labels, because not long ago, they were just Touya and Noah, two good friends who would converse about the weather over the occasional cup of coffee. But now they were ‘The Lover’ and ‘The Best Friend’, because they were close to the dead girl who was once among the living and that was what came with the territory.
“Hey Touya,” it was Noah who broke the silence this time around.
He wiped his clammy hands on his Nirvana shirt, smoothing down the creases in the fabric before idly fingering the porcelain handle of his cup of coffee, expectant gaze turned on his long time friend. “The weather is nice today, isn’t it?”
Dark orbs flickered upwards, momentarily caught off guard by the sudden change in the subject, but soon enough a fond grin graced her features. It was bright, full of understanding and the sombre mood that was previously cast upon them was instantly uplifted, only traces of it lingering.
“Yeah, it is.” She wasn’t agreeing just for the sake of agreeing, it really was a nice day. The skies were gray but the ribbons of light that managed to squeeze through the small cracks lining the clouds was a splash of colour upon the city’s black and white canvas. It was beautiful, not the breath taking beautiful that came with spring or the wonderlands of white up in the colder regions during winter, but the type of beautiful that steadily crept up your chest and warmed up your heart, the type of beautiful that made hope bloom, that made a person hope for the gray days to end and yearn for the colour that’d been missing from their lives for far too long. “It’s beautiful actually.”
A smile blossomed upon the chestnut haired male’s face, a grin bright and vibrant, mirrored Touya’s own. The tenseness that lined his shoulders has dissipated and his entire frame had relaxed, his body reclined back into his seat as the lingering caress of the conversation’s sombre mood ebbed away. It was as if he’d been waiting for that answer for a long, long time, as if he’d just finally been put at peace; maybe he was.
They spent the next hour talking and laughing. They spoke about everything and nothing at all, about their naivety as adolescents, about the time Noah had stumbled into the women's lavatories, about butterflies and goldfish, and about the weather.
It had been two months since the subject of weather had last popped up in one of their conversations, one month and a half since their finances had run dry and exactly one month since all their hope had gone and left them for dead.
Hope was blooming once more and colour was being painted upon a dusty black and white canvas. They were laughing again for the first time in what seemed like decades and conversing about weather over a cup of coffee long gone cold.
Just like they used to.
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Author's Rant(not much of a rant but shall be considered a rant nonetheless!): Behold YWS, you have just met the almighty wrath of my bipolar characters! As well as my cleverly inserted make-believe city
This one-shot might be just a teensy bit confusing as it'd be considered a sequel to another one of my stories that'll hopefully be completed sometime in the very far and distant future (I don't ask why I write sequels for stories that aren't even half-way done because I don't know the answer myself).
Oh and, before pointing out any spelling errors, note that I use Australian spelling.
Points:
Time spent:
Canary word: Present
Possible AI signals:
Original Text:
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125,029 Literary Works • 672,775 Reviews
Hey, this is foxfire here at your service. Your story is interesting because it gives a lot of happenings within these two people and this mystery seemed to be added with the essence of silence in this story.
I: The silence
Okay, when I read this story, the pace of the action seemed slow and that the story gives a more silent atmosphere. This silence is given off by the words, “silence” & “steadily” and the slow action of the characters. Other than the dialogue, it seemed that not much action is taking place. Which seem that the tension here which would be used in the middle paragraph is lacking.
To solve this, try to express the dialogue with facial or bodily language. For example the dialogues:
Yes you are,” she insisted.
“No I’m not”
“You are”
“Shut up.” The words came out as a hiss, barely above a whisper. Touya spluttered.
“Wha-?!”
Can be expressed by the used of expression to suggest the emotion of the person. For example, when Noah is denying, try to add it like his hands close to a fist or a sweat appearing at the side on his side. That way, it can suggest more action and can lessen the slow pacing of the story.
II The Hope
The last part of the paragraphs of the start appears to have the characters dissolve into narration. The last thing we heard about them is them laughing and talking. Okay, it is said that characters are the story, so what does the last paragraphs tells us about the character. Hope is blooming to who? To both or to a specific person. What makes hope funny to them? I know that it is their daptation to a death but still, it is vague. The problem here is that you have describe a range away from the characters and focus on the mood.
To be honest, the mood is very good but the characters seems disillusioned. You can suggest that their faces are smiling or that their hands were holding on the coffee. You can even give a specific imagery as an ending with a leaf falling into the coffee or something that can create a specific description.
Overall, the story is good and it creates a relaxing atmosphere to the reader but you need to work on imagery that can relate to the relaxing atmosphere rather than depending on mere narration.
Hello Ludicrously Idiotic! The nickname possibilities for your username are endless. Personally, I think I'm going to call you Ludicrio.
Monster sentence. I kept waiting for it to end, but it just keep going! Break this up somewhere in the middle into at least two sentences. Perhaps three.
a) I don't think "conversing" is the right word, considering neither of them are speaking at that moment. Just because of the order you have everything occurring, perhaps change "conversing with" to "staring at" or "sitting with". They're not talking at that point.
b) That last part of the last sentence I quoted is jumbled and unnecessary. The effect comes across quite nicely with just the first part.
Avoid the ?! combination. It makes a piece seem less professional.
Same thing here. Let the anger of his words and the way you describe him saying them carry the emotion; you don't need the bolds and the caps. Italics, I find, work most effectively and subtly.
Redundant, don't you think?
You have some beautiful imagery, and I could envision this little cafe very well, two people nestled in the back sharing hard times. However, at points you bog down the story with wordiness, like I mentioned in that first paragraph I quoted. You have a good, smooth writing style, and you don't need superfluous words that just repeat what has already been said. Choose words wisely, and choose words that are precisely what you want to say. Here's an example of this:
That last phrase in unnecessary. If you read through this, I'm sure you'll find some description and introspection that's simply repetitive and unneeded. Weeding that out will leave your prose stronger and more solid. Also, there are some easily-fixed grammar issues sprinkled about.
All in all, a very nice story. ^^ I wonder at the reason for the make-believe city, though. You could have just as easily not mentioned a city at all, and this cafe could be nestled anywhere in the world. Think about it.
Keep writing!
~Evi
Behold, I quote a spelling error - and it ain't because of Australian spelling.
*this, is American spelling. 'Skeptical'
** You already know why this is wrong.
You want me to nitpick your work? 'Cause I can see a few grammatical errors here, and some sentences just feel a little awkward.
If you want me to go harsh, then I will. But until then...
Good job anyway, although you confuse me until all I see is a swirling hypno ring.
P.S, DId I not help you even one bit? Jeez, the grammar horrifies me.