Porch swings always creak as they sway. No matter how many overexuberant home improvers hover over the springs with oil cans or rust-smeared containers of WD-40, the swings will still manage to creak. It's the nature of a porch swing, to creak.
Then, there's the matter of splinters. They're nasty little nuisances. Countless swing inhabitants have recoiled with their pincushioned hands cradled when a jagged shard of wood worked its way into their fingers. Malevolent and dormant, the miniscule fragments of wood are eternally waiting for their next victim. Porch swings are profuse harborers of splinters.
The backs of porch swings are nearly always hard. Although I suspect that some swings have voluminous cushions that allow people to lose themselves in clouds of fluff, the swings I've occupied have had rigid backs made of wooden slats. There are numerous more comfortable places to sit, to be sure; in fact, at some times I've been convinced that any other place would be more enjoyable.
Still, there's no other place I'd rather be when I'm alone with him. Somehow, the slivers and the creaks and the adamantine backs fade to unimportance when my head's leaning against his shoulder, my hands are entwined in his, and my heart is wrapped up in the gentle depth of his voice.
I adore porch swings.
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139,268 Literary Works • 672,523 Reviews
I liked how you talked about how the porch swing always creaks and how you talked about the splinters. Growing up with one on my front porch, I have had numerous splinters and when I was mad I used to love to listen to the creaking of the sing. It always calmed me down, the rhythm of it. I also had my first kiss on it. It became my favorite place in the world after that. I love how you said that it was your favorite place to be and explained you and him, I can relate to that, that is why this is good, because you can relate to it. It needs a couple of grammar fixes but other than that, good luck! :*
This was really sweet. Even though you only described the porch swing I could imagine it on a porch of a large house in spring with trees and a nice breeze and lemonade...anyway I thought it was cute!!!
Hi creativityrules!
At first I wasn't sure how this came under "Romantic", but the ending cleared that up and made this into a very sweet little sketch of emotion. The prose is nice, and your descriptions are very good, and on the surface, there's nothing here to really critique.
However, upon reflection, I feel like I want something more. I mean, what you have here is good, but I can't help feeling like there could be more depth. Like, for example, the fact that I wasn't sure until the very end how this was Romance. Almost all of this is just a simple description of porch swings, with the beloved only having three lines, so the connection isn't as clear as it could be.
You could make the association between the beloved and the porch swings closer by making the description of the swing more relevant to him. Like (for a very rough example) the creaking of the swing being its voice, the beloved's voice. That's cruder than I'm thinking of. Try writing it so the swing seems less a swing and more an extension of the beloved, so the swing's creak is his voice, its cushions are his embrace, that kind of thing. Does that make sense?
This is only a suggestion. Your story's good as it is; I just feel that you could easily make it richer and deeper.
Message me if you have any questions!
-twit
Awwww I loved this. You are an amazing writer. Im not much for critiques though so you will have to wait for someone else for those.