On sunny days, the light of the late afternoon slants into Bartie’s store and illuminates the lenses of hundreds of sunglasses, all arranged in tidy rows and along four revolving display racks. Bartie showcases his most expensive pair to their best advantage – perched on his very own, crooked nose. He is bent in his old age, and seldom speaks, but because his store is the only one of its kind along the pearlescent Fransiqui stretch, he never wants for business. Behind his glass-topped counter leans his cane, its handle worn smooth by the same, constant grip, curved like an antenna, and never once noticed by even the most loyal of Bartie’s customers.
The coincidence of its discovery with the unexpected entrance of a certain wild flamingo takes place just before closing time one fateful, balmy evening in May.
Bartie props open the door, hoping for a merciful breeze, and is nearly capsized by a flapping, feathery mass of flight. Grasping about for balance, he catches hold of a frantic, elongated neck – a flamingo! Two racks are disrupted in the fray before the damned bird finds its own way back through the door. Deciding to close early, Bartie locates his cane and set of keys, only to notice the entrance of a customer. She speaks in a haughty metropolitan tone, inquiring after a pair of Oakley’s. Bartie curses under his breath, for how can he possibly locate them amid the mess?
“Have you been robbed?” The woman sounds concerned.
“So it would seem.” Bartie replies, gripping his cane with the desperation of a man plummeting though fathoms, never again to take for granted the solidity of the ground.
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125,018 Literary Works • 672,857 Reviews
Hey S.S. Rose,
Your title caught me. It's all very imaginative and curiously different. I like it.
The first two lines display so much about the meticulous nature of your protagonist. I love the subtleness in that. You maintain a nice use of sophisticated language too.
As MagnusBane has already pointed out, yes in the line:
e catches hold of a frantic, elongated neck – a flamingo!
It all seems quite self-explanatory. I feel like I would connect so much more with your character if you would just spare a moment to let him fumble over what exactly the bird is.
Again, in the next lines,
Two racks are disrupted in the fray before the damned bird finds its own way back through the door. Deciding to close early, Bartie locates his cane and set of keys, only to notice the entrance of a customer.
I feel as if it is too hurried. I mean, a flamingo just randomly entered the bookshop, your character watches as it knocks over bookshelves, he wrestled with it, kicked it out, decides to close early, finds his cane, picks up his keys, and BAM, a customer is in the scene. All in less than five lines!
Don't take it the wrong way, I do like it. I just feel as though you could expand it to such advantage.
Your narrative ended abruptly, which leads me to inquire if it is an extract, for it certainly looks that way.
I enjoyed reading it, and would love to see more!
NightWriter x
Thanks for the comment! Just in regards to that last bit, this is actually a stand-alone piece. I was trying (perhaps not successfully) to convey in the abruptness of the ending that Bartie realizes he has indeed been robbed. Bartie (who is meticulous, as you observed, and comfortable in his working version of sight) has been robbed of his system, his routine -- by a bird. I'm not sure if I'm making much sense. But I had hoped to tell a anecdotal little tale about disenchantment, just to see where it would take me. By the by, thanks to everyone for the tips, they make sense and are very helpful!
Hi S.S. Rose! This is really good. I wish it was longer! The first paragraph sets up the scene so well. I particularly liked the very first sentence. Great opening.
I thought that it was kind of strange that all Bartie does is grab the bird's neck and he instantly knows that it's a flamingo. How can he know what it is just from that? Also, how can a neck be "frantic"?
I agree with Emm that the conflict should be expanded. Bartie is wrestling with the flamingo, and then it's suddenly just finding its own way out of the shop? It just seemed very abrupt to me.
That's about all I have to point out. Reviewing well written pieces like this is so hard! You didn't give me anything to work with! Not that that's a bad thing, of course.
Magnus
For a very short piece this was an enjoyable read. The first paragraph I especially liked as it set the voice and mood of the piece and felt very pleasant upon my senses.
"and is nearly capsized by a flapping, feathery mass of flight. Grasping about for balance, he catches hold of a frantic, elongated neck – a flamingo! Two racks are disrupted in the fray before the damned bird finds its own way back through the door." This should be longer I think. While this is not the point of the story it is the only conflict and I would encourage you to describe the struggle in greater detail. What is going through his mind as he struggles. Is he only trying to hold his own against the bird or is he actively trying to force it from his shop? Also I wouldn't refer to the bird as "...a flapping, feathery mass of flight..." flight is a verb and your use of it as a noun doesn't work for me.
Finally as much as I enjoyed reading it I did not like the ending, or the stop I should say because thats exactly what you do. There is a difference between an ending and a stop and this is a prime example of the latter. I want to know more of his mind after the struggle, more of how it affected him not just that single final sentence.
All in all enjoyable and simple, my favorite kind of piece. Good Luck.