Documenting my life in pen has had its consequences. Ink cannot be so easily erased. It can be smudged or at best, covered up and written over. But even then, it’s obvious there are flawed words and thoughts cowering beneath the whiteout that don’t quite match the white of the paper. It’s as if the attempt to cover up my mistake was almost more glaring than the mistake itself.
I was fixated on the future, a time I would leave Huntersville in the dust. Making mistakes in Huntersville wasn’t concerning, so why would I bother to pencil in a rough draft? I was never told the truth about pens, though. You have to be careful when writing your life in ink in a small town. There isn’t room for error within its confines. Whiteout is scarce.
I was saving my sharpened, Bright Orange No. 2 for the city. The dream I’d illustrated over the years was to blend into an active and progressive city far away from the town I’d been caged in. Snatch up opportunities. If I make mistakes, no one will be the wiser, and I’ll discreetly flip my pencil and erase.
Huntersville may be quaint, but it’s also measurable, from beginning to end. Family owned shops litter Main Street at regular intervals. The ice cream shop where Sarina and I used to sit in orchestrated silence, watching people walk by, had the best mint chocolate ice cream! Further up the street was the picturesque café that became our safe haven from the terrors of high school.
And the Lookout, the hill that overlooked the whole of Huntersville, was our favourite place to clear our minds and maybe play a little guitar. Huntersville is so miniscule from that altitude. The roads trail like concrete filaments and the traffic reminds me of fireflies that irregularly light up the town.
The bindings of our story fell apart like I should’ve predicted they would. It took one group of ill-intentioned boys, glistening bottles outstretched out to us with buzzed smiles on their faces, to stain my memory of that place forever. The trembling of my hands as Sarina and I drove away, down the hill, into the heart of Huntsville remains sharp in my mind. Crimson ink spoiled that page. I tried to erase that night from my life, but alas…
I couldn’t erase the ink.
I can’t think of Huntersville without thinking warmly of all the times Sarina and I felt so young and capable. I cannot calculate the worth those memories hold. I’ve paper-clipped the worthy times together and I’ll store them away for safe keeping.
It’s the damn ink stains – the messy, crumbling whiteout concealing that one night – that leaves me aching for bright lights and skyscrapers. I’ll crumple up that memory and toss it over my shoulder as I enter the city with my brand new, empty notebook, waiting to be filled with seized opportunities. This time, I’ll make sure to write in pencil first.
Points:
Time spent:
IP address:
Canary word: Present
Possible AI signals:
Original Text:
Are you sure you want to delete this comment? This cannot be undone.
Mark this comment as a review? Points will be awarded to the poster.
Your comment was posted, but it wasn’t long enough to count as a review. Reviews need about four complete sentences (at least 250 characters). Try writing another review that explains your thoughts in more detail — the author will appreciate it, and you’ll earn points for it.
140,268 Literary Works • 673,077 Reviews
WOW! I love this! It has me thinking to start writing in pencil for now on. I do like the vagueness of the memory, like you don't want to remember it.
I move a lot, and writing in pen has it benefits and it has its pitfalls. But it's a judgement call for which a person will be using.
It's also very nicely written
This is beautiful all around.
I like how you chose not to explain exactly what happened. To me, it speaks to the idea of not wanting to remember that memory. It's vague which makes me think of how I wish to eventually, one day, remember a few experiences of mine. Of course, the curious side of me wants to know what happened, but the artistic side thinks that this is much better and enhances your work.
Loved it!
--Grey
This is absolutely beautiful. The way you compare life to writing is original (at least in my experience) and it makes sense!
I like how you don't come right out and say that Sarina died. (She did didn't she? I could be way wrong) All you say is a splash of crimson ink. It still ties in with the fact that you can't take away the mistakes made in ink.
I also like how this person regrets not making a 'pencil sketch' first. He is so full-force with life knowing he is just going to live this small town. He sounds like a lot of kids in small towns.
Heart-wrenching in the best of ways. Hope this helped!
Thanks! Sarina didn't die, fortunately (this is a very true story) but it's really interesting that you interpreted it that way! Maybe I should specify that%u2026 again, thanks
All right. To begin with, I love how you set this up; the way you write gives beautiful insight to your mind and emotions. (Or whoever the narrator is if it isn't you.) The way you begin is also a brilliant hook because it causes the readers to wonder what it is you wish you could erase.
Now to really get to business. You write, "But even then, it's obvious there are flawed words" and so on. I suggest getting rid of the comma between "then" and "it's." This will make your sentence run more smoothly; it's an unnecessary interruption.
The sentence "I was fixated on the future, a time when I would leave Huntsville in the dust," is the next one that catches my attention. This reveals more of what you're looking forward to. The sentence is okay the way it is but I'd suggest considering something along the lines of, "I was fixated on the future; it was a time when I would leave Huntsville in the dust." The next sentence is a little confusing. Perhaps something like, "I wasn't concerned about making mistakes in Huntsville, so why would I bother to pencil in a rough draft?" I think the rest of the paragraph is gorgeous!
In paragraph three you have an incomplete sentence, "Snatch up opportunities." Sometimes incomplete sentences are good; they can highlight or stress something and draw the reader's notice. However, I don't think it fits here. I'd suggest completing it. "I wanted to snatch up opportunities."
In paragraph four, what do you mean by "measurable"? Do you mean in length or width or number of people? I think you should be a little more specific here. Also, put a hyphen between the words "family" and "owned" so the readers know those two words go together. Also I would change a couple of things in the next sentence. Here's my suggestion; "There's an ice-cream shop where Sarina and I used to sit in orchestrated silence, watching people walk by, and it had the best mint-chocolate ice-cream." I would arrange it this way because there's such a large break between part A and part B of the sentence that the audience looses track of what you were trying to say. Also I would get rid of the exclamation mark. I had an English teacher once who told me to only use an exclamation mark if the sentence was something you felt like you'd shout out--it has to contain that kind of excitement.
In the next paragraph, I suggest finding a way to begin it that doesn't start with "And." A conjunction isn't a very confident way to begin a sentence, let alone a paragraph.
After that I don't notice any other technicalities, so instead I'll talk about your paper as a whole.
I think your style of writing is gorgeous. It's so very vivid and flowing and easy to read. I think you capture a lot of the same emotions many people feel when growing up with precious siblings in small towns. It made me think of the times my sister and I would walk together to her work or to the local grocery store because neither of us could drive. It's a little abstract, because you never describe what those ink stains are, really--you don't let the audience know more than some vague clues and hints--but I think that's part of the beauty of it. All in all, I really really love it. I wish I could write as wonderfully as this!
Hi! Straight to the point: I really liked this piece. Perhaps it's simply because I can relate to it since I, as well, live in a small town eager to leave.
Nonetheless, I enjoyed your way of writing. It feels peaceful even though the story hidden within the words feels upsetting. Your choices of words tell the story for you which is very convenient, haha.
Like I said, I really liked it. Good job, keep writing!