FADE IN:
EXT. THE GREY WASTELAND - CONTINUOUS
The word "Okay" hangs in the silent air.
SHE stands perfectly still, the ink-like fabric of her dress pooling around her on the moss. She waits.
HE takes a breath. It doesn't feel like air — it feels like memory.
HIM
(voice trembling slightly)
Question one. The pain in my chest... it stopped the moment I got here. The kitchen, the toast, the floor... that's all over, isn't it? I didn't make it.
She looks at him. Her expression doesn't change, but her eyes soften, just a fraction.
HER
No. You didn't.
The confirmation hits him. Not like a blow, but like a lock clicking shut. Fact verified.
HIM
(nodding slowly)
Okay. Question two.
He looks around at the emptiness, then back at her.
HIM
If you are... who I think you are... why didn't you come for me? Why did I wake up here alone, and have to find you?
She tilts her head. A ghost of a smile touches her lips — sad, ancient, and knowing.
HER
Because He doesn't like to see me take things. He prefers to send them.
HIM
He?
HER
Life.
She turns fully toward him now. The sharp look in her eyes dissolves into something else. Hunger? Curiosity? Longing?
She steps closer. The distance between them feels charged, like the air before a storm.
HER
I answered your two questions. Now... I have questions for you.
HIM
(confused)
For me? I'm just... I was just a guy. An accountant. I didn't do anything famous.
HER
I don't care what you did. I care about where you came from.
She reaches out, her hand hovering near his face, not touching.
HER
You were with Him. You lived in His house. You felt His sun. You are fresh from His hands.
She leans in, her voice dropping to a whisper that sounds like dry leaves skittering on pavement.
PRENATAL — THE BEFORE
HER
Before you opened your eyes... you were inside him. Just a thought he was forming. What was it like — to be held by him before he gave you away?
HIM
Safe. Like being a secret he was excited to tell. I could feel him building me — heartbeat first, then hunger, then hands. He wasn't careful. He was eager. Like he couldn't wait to show me to someone.
INFANCY — THE ARRIVAL
HER
(quiet)
He couldn't wait... yes. He's always rushing. So he released you. Did he prepare you for the fall?
HIM
No. He just opened his hands and let me drop into the world — screaming, wet, terrified. But then he did something strange. He put someone's arms around me. He doesn't hold you himself. He finds others to do it. That's his way. Clumsy. Indirect. But warm.
TODDLERHOOD — THE DISCOVERY
HER
He finds others to hold you... because he can't stay still long enough himself. But you followed him anyway. Why?
HIM
Because everything was him. The colours. The sounds. The way things felt when I touched them for the first time. He made the world a toy and let me break it. He laughed when I fell. Not cruel — delighted. Like watching me stumble was the whole point.
CHILDHOOD — THE BELIEF
HER
He laughed... did you trust him?
HIM
Blindly. I thought he was magic. I believed in invisible friends, in wishes coming true, in monsters under the bed. He never told me I was wrong. He let me live in wonder. I think... that was his gift. Not truth. Just time before truth.
ADOLESCENCE — THE WOUND
HER
(slower now)
When did he take the wonder back?
HIM
When I loved something and it didn't stay. A friend who left. A feeling that faded. A version of me that died quietly one afternoon. He didn't warn me. He just... moved things. Took things. I screamed at him. Called him cruel. He didn't defend himself. He just kept going. That's when I realized — he doesn't stop. Not for grief. Not for anyone.
ADULTHOOD — THE DEAL
HER
Did you forgive him?
HIM
No. I made a deal. I told him — I'll stay. I'll play your game. But I won't be naive again. I'll build things. Guard them. Love with caution. He accepted. He doesn't need your trust. He just gives you time and watches what you build with it.
MIDDLE AGE — THE SEEING
HER
What did you build?
HIM
Things I thought mattered. Career. Name. Walls. But one day I looked around and the walls felt silly. The things I had chased were empty. And the ordinary things — a meal cooked slowly, a friend sitting in silence, rain on a window — those were him all along. Hiding in the plain. I finally saw him clearly. He was never cruel. He was generous. I just didn't know how to receive a gift that doesn't stay.
OLD AGE — THE SOFTENING
HER
(almost tender)
Did he soften with you... at the end?
HIM
I softened. My body slowed. My wants got quieter. I stopped fighting him and started watching — how light moves, how children laugh, how strangers help each other for no reason. And I think he noticed. He gave me longer mornings. Slower sunsets. Like he was saying goodbye without saying it.
THE THRESHOLD — THE RELEASE
HER
And then... he let you go. To me.
HIM
Yes. He didn't push. He just opened his hands — the same way he did when I arrived. No ceremony. No speech. Just release. And I realised... he never trapped me. I was always free. I just didn't want to leave.
A pause. He looks at her differently now.
HIM
But I think... he wanted me to meet you.
THE MESSAGE — FOR HER
HER
(standing still, something ancient cracking in her voice)
You've walked through him. Beginning to end. You've worn his days. Now tell me — you've seen him up close, and I've only seen what he sends... what is he like?
HIM
He's chaos. He's a child with too many toys. He starts things and forgets them. He loves loudly and leaves quietly. He makes promises with rain and breaks them with drought.
Pause.
HIM
But he talks about you.
HER
(barely breathing)
...He does?
HIM
Not in words. In how he ends things. Gently. A leaf falling. A candle dimming. A deep breath before sleep. That's him... handing us to you softly. He knows you're waiting. He sends us wrapped as carefully as he can.
HIM
He can't come himself. The moment he touches you, he stops.
HIM
So he sends us.
HIM
We're not just gifts.
HIM
We're the only way he can touch you.
Death says nothing.
The gate opens.
He walks through — carrying Life into her arms — the only embrace they'll ever have.
FADE TO BLACK.
THE END
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125,021 Literary Works • 672,740 Reviews
Hi
I read this work a few days ago and left the tab open so that I could come and review it when I had the time. You've managed to create a deeply touching work with very few words. I appreciate the poetic, contemplative, and emotive style of your writing.
Where I find your work strongest:
> I like the way that you describe what is happening, between the metaphorical narrative descriptions and the dialogue itself. Some of the lines in the beginning already display this metaphorical style that you keep throughout the piece, like this line:
This description of human-like behaviour helps us connect with this HER character early on in the story.
> This is even further exemplified later on in the dialogue, when you really show us how Life functions by describing the ways the character felt, keeping it vague but still making the idea of loss very real in the reader's mind:
I found this line especially beautiful, and from there I was heavily invested in your piece of writing. Up until this point I was mainly curious because I did not know where the story was going; from this point I was invested in what had happened to HIM.
> The last few lines were also very strong: Death's recognition of the gifts of Life, her relationship to him that can only be through the people that have passed through him, and her quiet acceptance of them, embracing him in her arms. Very nice.
> Overall, I feel like your voice comes out clearly and consistently, and this gives your piece a cohesive feeling from start to finish, keeping the reader in a sort of trance and allowing them to release their breath once the story has finished.
Where I think you could improve:
> The other side of the coin of your strong writer's voice is that I feel like it seeps into the dialogue perhaps a little too much. While I love this pensive, almost introspective-feeling voice, upon rereading the text I feel like your character (specifically, HIM), has somewhat of a mismatch in his voice from the beginning to the end. It feels strange that the same character that stutters this at the beginning:
is the same person who pronounces this at the end:
While this voice fits with the overall style of writing in the story, to me as a reader it confuses me that a character who was so shocked a few lines of dialogue before has suddenly found such a poetically beautiful way of putting all of his philosophy of life into words. I think you do a good job of describing the moment that he switches and becomes all philosophical, when he realizes that HE sent him to HER. Still, HER voice, HIS voice, and the narrator's voice all feel very similar, especially at the end. Perhaps this is intentional?
> Coming back to showing vs. telling, I think you could push the showing even a little further. Here, you have headings for tiny 'scenes', it would seem, which carry the title of every stage of life: Infancy, Toddlerhood, and so on. While I think that these titles help guide the reader to imagine what this person was going through at every stage, I think that the dialogue actually does the heavy lifting here.
This quote, for example, is a clear description of being born. Do you think it necessary to announce it before its arrival, by using the scene heading? I think not, I think you should trust your readers will understand while you describe what is happening to them. Or, if you feel like you need to still show it in some way, perhaps showing it in a different way, like images of his birth flashing in front of his eyes, for example. A first bike ride, holding someone's hand, dressed in a suit and tie presenting to a conference room full of people. Maybe there is more to gain by showing certain scenes of his life, and thus providing more background, rather than taking the fun out of for the reader, who no longer needs to guess what you're talking about.
> Which brings me to my last point: structure. You've submitted this as a SCRIPT, yet I am unsure what it is. A play? A screenplay? To me this mainly reads as a short story which borrows some structural elements of a play so that the dialogue reads better. But if it is a (screen)play, then the narration disappears. How does your audience see what is not being spoken? Defining it as a script, rather than a story, means that narration like this needs to be written differently:
How do you show this visually, either on screen or on stage? What is the character's reaction to this to make the viewer understand that this feels like a memory?
Perhaps your piece is merely an exercise, and for that reason does not need to be defined as one thing or the other. Still, as part of this exercise, it could be interesting to ask yourself, outside of YWS, if you were to present this piece of writing, what would it be labeled as? And therefore what would that mean for the dialogue, the narration, the screen directions?
Generally, I think you've done a great job, and I look forward to reading more of your writing. I was happy to come back and read this a second time, so keep it up!
Hope this was helpful.
Hello there, human! I'm reviewing using the YWS S'more Method today!
Shalt we commence with the atrocious S’more?
Top Graham Cracker - A man dies and talks to Death, who asks him how Life was. The man tells her in all honesty and for the first time, he realizes that he was free all along.
Slightly Burnt Marshmallow - I have no recommendations to make as of right now, but if you would like to edit this, then you may.
Chocolate Bar - I absolutely love the way you had the man describe Life. It feels exactly the way Life would be described without using a lot of descriptions. Life is very loving in a way that isn’t always nice, but is true. And Life and Death cannot exist close with each other, but they care about each other all the same.
Closing Graham Cracker - Overall, a very lovely script about the meaning of Life and what it means to have truly lived. I enjoyed reading this script and I wish you…
A glorious day/night! ^v^
Thank you so much for the S%u2019more review! I%u2019m really glad you picked up on that specific 'loving but not always nice' nature of Life%u2014that%u2019s exactly the balance I was aiming for. Hearing that the man%u2019s realisation of freedom resonated with you means a lot. Thanks for taking the time to share your thoughts, and I hope you have a glorious day/night as well!
Thank you so much for the S'more review! I'm really glad you picked up on that specific "loving but not always nice" nature of Life - that's exactly the balance I was aiming for. Hearing that the man's realization of freedom resonated with you means a lot. Thanks for taking the time to share your thoughts, and I hope you have a glorious day as well!
you%u2019re welcome! ^v^