It was midday as the young man walked sullenly along the sidewalk, his head hanging low as if entranced by the plain concrete beneath his feet. The heat was blistering, at least by his standards, and much was on his mind. He was weighed down with thoughts of self pity, disgust for his bleak surroundings, hazy memories of happier times in happier places, the usual plague of pessimistic thoughts of a teenager locked in an eddy of perpetual depression. The street around him was a hodge-podge of dentists offices, chiropractors, and other private practice medical buildings that seemed to meld together in a blur of bland greys and whites as he begrudgingly marched onward. Along this line of uninteresting, conforming one-story bungalows and single toned constructions, stood a solitary house. It was a deep, vibrant brown, as if it grew whole from a great chestnut tree and was simply plopped on the streets of some forgettable city in California. The young lad could not help but to stop and stare, It shocked him. Who would live in such a place? He asked himself. As he peered across the street, he began to notice that the sun's light did not seem to touch it, it was blanketed in a soft shade which only increased its mysterious sense of isolation. The russet dwelling stared back at the boy knowingly through its octagonal stained-glass window, hypnotizing him from across the asphalt of the road. His head began to throb as the warmth of the sun beat down upon his still form. He was filled suddenly with a longing, a desire to call it his palace, to step into its doorway and discard the cruel reality that haunted him, to discover what glorious treasures were within its welcoming embrace. After what seemed like an eon had passed, he was brought back to life by the sudden blare of a car's horn, and his head whipped around to find he was in the middle of the thoroughfare, blocking a tall obsidian truck. Confused and somewhat shaken by the experience, he hastily returned to his journey back home. The next day, the young man revisited the address, only to find an empty lot covered in dead grass and litter. His mind easily accepted that he must have hallucinated, and he carried on with his life of head-hanging and sadness, but a part of him remained there, in the moment of heat and hypnosis, on that blistering september afternoon in the middle of urban nowhere.
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129,936 Literary Works • 671,510 Reviews
Hey Nildabeast! First things first, I'd like to congratulate you on the wonderful description based work of art you presented to us. Of course, there is still a room for improvement, but that doesn't make your piece any less fascinating. Especially for a person like me, who happens to have issues with descriptive writing.
I have to agree with my predecessors who mentioned the lack of paragraphs. Even though it may be comfortable for you as a writer to put the words down as they come, the reader needs something more. They must believe that our minds are perfectly organised... Especially when you're writing highly descriptive, yet complex and thrilling piece. The gap gives the reader enough time to imagine the scene you've just described AND automatically creates the so much needed tension.
The second thing I'd like to pinpoint is the recent tendency of our fellow writers to shorten the sentences as much as possible. The inspiration is clear - Ernest Hemingway... There's nothing wrong with that and it makes your work more understandable for readers. At the same time, you can prevent them from getting lost in the scene.
On the other hand, as I said earlier, I'm impressed by your description and the unexpected twist. You managed to portray the typical signs of mental illness. People often find it terrifying how easy it is to accept some sort of things... Such as hallucinations, self hate or the very subjective opinion on the world.
Thank you so much for sharing this piece. You've done an amazing job.
Stay strong. Keep writing.
-FluentSarcasmGal
Hey Nildabeast! First things first, I'd like to congratulate you on the wonderful description based work of art you presented to us. Of course, there is still a room for improvement, but that doesn't make your piece any less fascinating. Especially for a person like me, who happens to have issues with descriptive writing.
I have to agree with my predecessors who mentioned the lack of paragraphs. Even though it may be comfortable for you as a writer to put the words down as they come, the reader needs something more. They must believe that our minds are perfectly organised... Especially when you're writing highly descriptive, yet complex and thrilling piece. The gap gives the reader enough time to imagine the scene you've just described AND automatically creates the so much needed tension.
The second thing I'd like to pinpoint is the recent tendency of our fellow writers to shorten the sentences as much as possible. The inspiration is clear - Ernest Hemingway... There's nothing wrong with that and it makes your work more understandable for readers. At the same time, you can prevent them from getting lost in the scene.
On the other hand, as I said earlier, I'm impressed by your description and the unexpected twist. You managed to portray the typical signs of mental illness. People often find it terrifying how easy it is to accept some sort of things... Such as hallucinations, self hate or the very subjective opinion on the world.
Thank you so much for sharing this piece. You've done an amazing job.
Stay strong. Keep writing.
-FluentSarcasmGal
Hey, Call me Mr Muddy Pig!
1.Why this was very hard to read, one whole giant paragraph, made me lose where I was.
2.It was a deep, vibrant brown,
I don't know what you mean by that, you should remove the 'a' and comma.
3.He was filled suddenly with a longing, a desire to call it his palace, to step into its doorway and discard the cruel reality that haunted him, to discover what glorious treasures were within its welcoming embrace.
Such a long run on sentence, it makes hard for me to keep reading, although it adds to the action somehow.
Anyway, This detailed short story was quiet engaging to read at my free time.
Yes! Mr Muddy Pig Out!
Hello there Nildabeast!
First of all, I would suggest that you break this down into a few smaller paragraphs so that it's easier to read, but it's your decision on how to format it. Other than that, I just have a few smaller things to point out.
I like the description of the street, but is there a point to all of the specifically medical offices? I think when you say "private practice medical buildings", it's an unnecessary mouthful, as we already see two examples of medical buildings. I think you could say "and other private practices", and that would be just fine. The hours of greys and whites is a nice bit of imagery!
This is just a tiny thing, but... Is the octagonal window the ONLY window? If it has more (maybe it doesn't- who knows?) then I would suggest saying "through an octagonal stained-glass window" just so that the reader knows it has more windows than just one.
And woah. Woah, nice ending. It's rather sad that there isn't a house, but maybe if the house came from his mind he can return there some day. ;-; I really liked this, and I like how by the end, it seems like one nice, unique day among a steady stream of boredom and sadness. This is a very vivid, emotional short story. Wonderful job!
-Falconer
Hey there, Nildabeast! I was interested in reading this because of your description; isn't it an awesome feeling when inspiration just hits you like that?
It's a little chilling though, the way he dismisses the hallucination so casually. It suggests to me that he's hallucinated before.
He was weighed down with thoughts of self pity, disgust for his bleak surroundings, hazy memories of happier times in happier places, the usual plague of pessimistic thoughts of a teenager locked in an eddy of perpetual depression.
This sentence is a little too long. The writing is beautiful, it just needs to be split up a bit to give me a proper amount of time to catch my breath.
It was a deep, vibrant brown, as if it grew whole from a great chestnut tree and was simply plopped on the streets of some forgettable city in California.
I love this sentence, the description is amazing. It made it really easy for me to immerse myself in the story and imagine the scene taking place, almost as if I was actually there.
The young lad could not help but to stop and stare, It shocked him.
That first sentence needs to end in a full stop, not a comma.
The next day, the young man revisited the address, only to find an empty lot covered in dead grass and litter.
I did not expect that to happen! I thought this might be a horror short, not a you-blew-my-mind short.
I loved your descriptive style of writing in this piece. It was a very short story, obviously, but you captured both emotion and an interesting plot in few words. I really enjoyed reading it, so thank you for sharing.