So I’m sitting by the fire right now. Ben’s asleep. That’s a familiar because a lot of time is spent with Ben asleep and me awake. I don’t sleep that much, which pisses Ben off a little because not sleeping slows me, therefore us, down. But it’s not my fault and he knows that, so he doesn’t have anyone to blame it on really. So his bad mood about me has a hard time keeping alive, like a spark on a damp log.
Speaking of...
The flame is going down now. I should put it out because someone, or worse, some pack, will see it and raid us, and we’re at the dead end of an alleyway, so we’d be cornered... but it’s dark. It’s like the dark is the finest, coldest blanket you can think of and it’s smothering everything except me and the foxes and the packs into...dormancy. But I’m still here, a little fire next to a little fire.
I scoop a handful of down-soft ashes, still warm, and blow on them so they flurry out like tiny birds, scattering into the world on new wings. They were once something whole, that ash, and now they’ll never be held together in the same way, in the same place, ever again.
A fox barks, and it sounds like a scream- maybe it is a scream, actually- and then the night is perfectly still. The flickering of the coals stagnates, and goes dark before I can stoke it.
And then there was one.
I look over at Ben, and I can only see his outline, his broad back rising and falling with deep, clear breaths.
Nobody in The City breathes clear breaths. Ben is not from The City. I didn’t even know people like that existed. People not from here. I thought they were stories, before he showed up.
Ben’s chest, has trapped no smoke inside it, and his voice is as clear as water in the wells of the monks… you could see your own reflection in it - if you could see a voice.
If the monks are real. I hope they’re real. I hope Ben is right.
*
I wake him up before the sun rises, and, as mornings tend to predict, he seems less short-tempered than he had been only hours ago. It’s odd to me how people seem so different before and after they sleep, how they believe that a new day is a clean slate. But days are increments of time, just like minutes or seconds. Minutes and seconds pass by without anyone noticing their singularities, but days, oh, days. Days can be like new lives for people, it seems like. To me they run into each other in a pattern- day, night. White, black. To me, the whole thing, time, runs in a line that doesn’t break or stop for anything.
It didn’t use to be like that, but it’s been so long that it has been.
Ben taps his staff on the ground, letting it fall from his hand, bounce on the cobblestone ground, and return to his grip. It’s a habit that annoys me, but I don’t tell him that. He does it when he’s thinking or bored or punctuating his sentences. He does it all the time.
The sound is hollow, the tapping.
“So. Onward, huh.” Ben points the staff’s curved end in front of him. Shouldering the large bag on his back, he starts walking off, leaving me to trail behind him, my knees creaking plaintively. They do that when it's humid, my knees. They ache. It slows us down.
The sky is grey-yellow-purple with sunrise now against the near-black buildings, a color like a week-old bruise. Thick, clotting smoke rises everywhere from chimneys, striping up in grimy streaks all over the horizon line. They point straight up in the breezeless, muggy air.
There’s a soft, static sound of crickets, groggy and sweet.
End of chapter
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140,420 Literary Works • 673,178 Reviews
Hi!
My name is Rachel, but most people call me Mad.
Plot, Pace and Point of View
I was really confused by the way you talked about the monks and The City. I feel like you should explain a little more.
The chapter seemed to end rather abruptly. I found you could have revealed more about monks and the city and other things.
I love the way you write though, it's so colorful!
Characters and Dialogue
I really like your main character so far. I like how he can't sleep and I thought the think with time being a pattern was brilliant and by far the best thing of this chapter.
Grammar
I didn't see any problems (but then again I'm not good with grammar).
I hope this review was helpful. Sorry it wasn't super specific, it's late here and my mind isn't working right.
Dontcha quit writing, ya hear me!
Rachel
Hey, you were super helpful! Thanks for taking the time to review!
No problem!
Hola Satira, FallWolf here for a review =)
Just a note, before reviewing this I looked at your page and follow the "kitten" link you posted way back. ... I was listening to calming music when I clicked the link... that was not cool =P
ANYWAYYYYYS, onto the review!
First of all, the title: it's okay, I see where it connects to the story, but it could be a little more interest-piquing. A title is the first thing people see when looking at your work, so you have to make sure it fits with your story and sort of provides a hook-before-the-actual-hook. Truthfully? I only started reading it because of the blurb you did. And now I'm glad I did!
This chapter is interest-piquing and a very good start! You introduce the characters nicely, each interesting and idiosyncratic in their own way. I have found very little in the way of things that could be improved =)
One thing that caught my attention though was your use of "So" in the first line. I don't know why, but this bugs me and seems out-of-character. I would suggest revising.
I would love to hear more about the characters surroundings! I know a lot of people don't have much to say in way of the importance of description, but it is very, very important. Description can effect mood as well as setting, depending on what you focus on. Now, it is dark in this chapter, so there is not much to describe... on the sight part of the plain. However, I have found that there is never the "true" dark that I seem to find in stories. Other senses, smell, sound and touch, create light even when none is visible. Now, I'm not saying you don't have any description, and the description that is there is very good! I especially love your "...down-soft ashes..." sentence =) Actually, most readers would probably love this story how it is. However, I read classics and stuff so I prefer stories on the purple-prose side of the spectrum =P Additionally, description, when used correctly, can make a 173 page book into a 221 page novel, not only because of the detail, but because description can bring out new ideas and settings that you never thought about =)
Okay, that was a lot about description. I guess I'm a bit peeved lately because I got mad at a book I was trying to read that had almost NO description and was SO BORING but it could have been such a GOOD story... Anyways, next subject time =P
Now this is more persnickity than anything. You use this: - a lot more than I usually see. I would suggest revising to not have so many in... if you want =)
So, that's about all for now! Oh, I absolutely love the writing voice you gave to this character! I especially like this: " leaving me to trail behind him, my knees creaking plaintively. They do that when it's humid, my knees. They ache. It slows us down."
Last of all, keep on writing!
-FallWolf
Hiya! Thank you for reviewing, you're absolutely correct in your criticisms!
Haha, I'm a little on the fence between purple-prose and straight up Hemingway. I have a hard time finding the balance. But I totally get what you're saying. There are lots of people that tell me to describe more. I have a tendency to get too abstract, and then I stray from description... and plot... xD.
Thanks, also for commenting on my wall and etcetera, it means a lot to me!
(Asher's a perfect name for that guy!)