Capture That Feeling Competition
A/N:
King
Out there, the food was sparse, but God had handed King a zebra only a few days ago, and although the vultures swirled with sappy grins, King knew he was safe. His ribs almost broke the skin and his gut seemed to recede to his spine, but he knew the next bounty wasn’t far away.
King was walking to Europe and Malu, the hyena, was tagging along for now. He didn’t mind Malu. Europe was too far for a hyena to travel; he knew he would say good-bye to him somewhere along the way.
King knew God was helping him. Even here, in the Sahara, God told him things that no one else knew. He would always be safe because God was with him. So, when King finished talking to himself, he would say Amen because he was talking to God too.
Amen.
***
“Malu, just let me know when you need a rest, and we will rest, alright?”
Malu wore a crazed grin, his mouth was lined with ivory razor and his jaw was slung with an under-bite. He glanced up at King then his head dropped back between his shoulders. He kept moving forward, neck bobbing, hips rolling side-to-side, and tail swishing.
King pressed on, his gaze hard set on the swirling horizon and with every step, the sand shifted beneath his cracked feet. The sun was moving like warm butter into the red earth. King thought this was nice. He thought about hot bread and milk. Closing his eyes as he walked, he imagined the farm. His wife was there. Her long midnight hair undefined against silky black skin. Wrapped in cotton, a small package sat in her arms, and its black lips clutched to her brail bosom.
Then the men burst through the door in lockstep. Clad from the neck down in camouflage and each capped under fair blue helmets. One had a colourful array of stamps uniformly fixed across the left side of his chest; his shoulders were set square like a matchbox. He took Kings wife and the baby. They were taken with all the others to escape the Tutsi’s, and King was a Tutsi so he couldn’t go.
King held his wife, but they dragged her, bracing her arms and legs and hair. The matchbox man held the baby with one arm, and with the other, he lifted two fingers stiffly to his forehead and away. King screamed, he was young then and his mouth was full of white teeth. He blinked out a tear in each eye. But, King would see her soon.
Amen.
***
King’s grin was wholly and yellow. His stilt legs folded precariously at the knee as he moved across the sand. The last embers of twilight were fading. King’s feet were no longer his feet. They were just blocks of wood strapped to his ankles, but when he caught a small cactus on the toe, his leg stopped. God had delivered. He opened the cactus and crunched down tearing out its guts. He threw half to Malu and let a wild toothy grin stretch, his eyes round and mad.
“Eat up, Malu.”
Malu laid on his side. He looked up as the discarded half cactus slapped against the dust; his gaze moved from the cactus to King. Then he dropped his head against the earth.
“Malu, don’t sleep there boy. Sleep in a hole, Malu. Oh Malu, you are a crazy mutt.”
King began scratching at the warm earth. He moved the sand systematically. First, he would dig one side. Then moving to the left he would shovel from another side and move to the left again, and so on. When soil lifted his fingernails, and his wrists were tortured, he stood upright and found himself before a square, wide enough for both himself and Malu.
Malu jumped to four feet when King reached to move him. His tail bolted up like a rattlesnake and his teeth were bare. He looked staunch for a pup, but what a dope he was.
“Malu, you silly mutt. You put those fangs away. I built you and me a bed, Malu, you crazy mutt.”
King backed away, white palms bared.
“You sleep in the heat then Malu, you silly hound. Have sweet dreams in the heat, Malu.” King said with a dry tongue, and his eyebrows almost converged over his long nose.
“Don’t you come into my hole when you get too hot to sleep Malu.”
Before King closed his eyes, he pictured the map of Africa that used to hang on the back of the door in his childhood schoolroom. He wondered where he was on the map; he had walked for three days and figured he was probably half way there or maybe he would reach Europe tomorrow.
Amen.
He wasn’t always King. He wondered if his wife would like his new name. Maybe he should change back.
***
Malu was working his snout over King’s unclothed back when he woke. He let out a low growl when King moved.
“Malu, what are you doing? You stop sniffing me, Malu.”
The sun was high and King blinked against the heat as he sat up. His dreams were so real. He was in her arms and his body was smarting for more of her touch. He had squeezed but she wasn’t there. That is when he woke.
King climbed from his hole and Malu’s growls faded. His ivory razor grin tucked away, and he left the hole; front legs first, and then with one lethargic hop came the rest of him. King bent his back and reached out to the half cactus, and then he buried his face, pulling strings of cactus guts out with his teeth. King's eyes longed for food, longed for water. Sometimes he saw things that would disappear by the time he had rushed to them. The sly vultures spiralled high above.
“Don’t you pay those stupid devils any attention, Malu,” King frowned, glancing up.
“Oh, Malu, I wanted to ask you something? Do you like my name?” He paused and eyed the black hyena, “Which do you like better Malu? King or Habimana? Oh never mind Malu, you don’t know about anything.”
The heat was nothing; King had seen hotter days, ploughing the fields just weeks ago. He had worked harder escaping the flames, tailing him from the open shed. Years ago, he would run for days from the wide mouthed Hutu. This wasn’t hard. He had nothing back there; farming on the desert was no life for King.
Amen.
And he would soon be back in his wife’s grip, kissing and touching her. She was lucky, lucky to live through it. King had heard about the murder of the matchbox sergeant. Some of the trucks that took the Hutu to Europe that travelled near their home had been ambushed, and the people killed. But not her. God told King she made it to Europe, and then afterwards he had told him what his new name would be.
***
King could only imagine how his wife had changed over the last 20 years. He wondered if she had changed her name too. Maybe God had changed her name to Queen. King grinned and his black eyebrows moved high up his hairless head.
Amen.
“You ever been in love, Malu?”
King stopped, wide eyed. He pivoted and faced Malu. Malu’s stare was empty and dark. They locked eyes, King’s beady black pupils on Malu’s.
“What did you say, Malu?” Malu stood, watching King with a dumb stare. His tail stopped.
“I could have sworn you said something, Malu.” King moved his body forward but his eyes stayed fixed sideways on Malu.
King’s feet were no longer wood blocks but concrete slabs. His chest sucked hot air and heaved out dry breath in throes. Scribbles moved in his vision. Everywhere he looked he found the same scribbles, and his knees no longer bent. He looked down at the dark stilts, which quaked, or maybe his eyes quaked. He curled his back and rested his tarantula hands on his bony knees. His cadaverous gut tightened and his ribs protruded and wrapped his lungs like fingers in leather gloves.
Malu watched, tail still, tongue hanging and his breath rose in sharp heaves.
Finally, King’s knees bent and hit the earth hard. His spine hooked and his fingers spread in the red sand. Looking to the swirling horizon, he couldn’t see Europe yet, but he could see a dark figure rising, running closer. In her arms was a wrapped baby, its black lips clutched to her brail bosom.
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137,574 Literary Works • 672,048 Reviews
Hello.
While this was not the story entered into Capture that Emotions, I see you have gotten no reviews on this edit of the story; I read an older version, but since you do not have any feedback on this edit I won't bring it up.
One thing that bothered me slightly was the required use of an A/N to explain the context; I'm of the opinion that a story should be as self-contained as possible before it is ready to publish/post. The A/N will not always be there to explain what is going on, which makes reliance on it a risky literary technique. I will say the first time I read this story I ignored all A/Ns not relating to the contest, which made me highly confused about what was gong on.
While you have improved this greatly from the draft I read, it still feels off. You tightened the story up a lot but I feel you could've made it better. Making it more self-contained, primarily. Adding in more hope dulled by exhaustion, so there is a touch more of the contest to this. While you did a good job numbing all emotions through exhaustion, it's subtle. Since I doubt any of us have ever felt as tired as King, it could take a bit more emotion woven in here.
Whether or not this is better is up to you. I would simply like to know you had tried something different, so you didn't just reach for a style that's easy for you.
Because this looks easy to write for you. That you can pull out something rather nice and that's good enough. I want you to push yourself farther, try a bunch of styles before you settle on one. It feels like you've carved your niche without exploring others— and it's keeping something out of the story itself. I've read a few things by you, now, and it all has the same feel: routine.
This story had the closest thing I've seen to a spark yet, but it was hidden under "this is normal, everyday behaviour that doesn't need any flavour put in." You tried, a bit, and the third person helps, but I'd like to see you try and not be normal in one of your stories. This is the perfect time to do so— with such a huge upset in King's life I'd have thought there was something he'd be fighting off. But he's so calm, with no hint of spark... while it shows exhaustion it doesn't feel like enough.
Overall, this was nice. Push yourself to try other things, do better. Make me feel. Show me there's more than subtle implications of emotion under the routine, and the exhaustion.
PM me if you have any questions or comments.
~Rosey
Hey, JP! Here I am, sorry I didn't get to writing the review until now - though I did read the story a couple of days ago already!
So, I have to say I liked this a lot. It's necessarily not something I would usually read, but it's so vivid. I believe you added the spoilers only after I had first read this, so I didn't know this was a contest entry, but now that I saw it, it seemed almost obvious this was - the exhaustion was so visible and you painted it excellently.
The most noticeable mistake you keep making is with punctuation. I feel terribly pedantic to even go there after such an interesting read, but I'm going to say it anyway. So, King addresses Malu a lot using his name and says things like "Yes Malu", "Thank you Malu", "You're so silly Malu" etc. etc. etc. You should actually put a comma before "Malu": "You're so silly, Malu." Usually this doesn't pose a problem in a text, as it can be read and understood very well anyway. However, you have a bit in which it could seem rather comical:
You know the "Let's eat, Grandma" vs. "Let's eat Grandma" thing? It's peculiar how such an insignificant-looking thing as a little comma can change the whole meaning of a sentence.
You're quite lucky, though, to have punctuation as one of the biggest problems in your writing. That's very easy to fix, and in the long run I don't mind that much, if only the story is intriguing, which it was. Even still, grammar is the most basic base for everything, so definitely pay attention.
I am not going to say much else -- just know that the emotion was very well portrayed, and your descriptions were rather outstanding. I wish you the best of luck in the contest!
Demeter
x
I really liked this, but I spotted a bunch of easily-fixed errors.
I really liked the description here--very vivid.
Is there a reason God isn't capitalized here?
Once again, lovely description!
This seems to be a bit of a run-on. I'd suggest putting a period after "King" or rewording it.
Run-on. There should be a period after "nice", or put an and before "he."
Why is helmets capitalized?
Put a period after "baby."
Her? I know it's the wife, but it isn't immediately clear. It could be the baby for all the reader knows. Also, put a period after "screamed."
Put a period after "feet."
This is extremely nit-picky, but I think you should put a comma after "up."
Another run-on. You should either put a period after "King" or put an "and" before "then."
The next part is a big run-on as well. It should probably read: "Malu, don't sleep there, boy. Sleep in a hole, Malu. Oh, Malu, you are a crazy mutt."
Another run-on. I'd suggest rewriting it as: "He began on one side, and then, moving to the left, he would shovel from another side, and to the left, and so on."
"Malu, you silly mutt. You put those fangs away. I built you and me a bed, Malu, you crazy mutt."
""You sleep in the heat then, Malu, you silly hound. Have sweet dreams in the heat, Malu," King said with a dry tongue, and his eyebrows almost converged over his long nose.
"Don't you come into my hole when it gets too hot to sleep, Malu."
Again, run-on. Don't be afraid to just start a new sentence.
Put a period after "King."
Comma after "me."
Put a period after "real."
I'd suggest you put a comma after "first", and add an "and" right after.
"“Don’t you pay those stupid devils any attention, Malu,” King frowned, glancing up.
“Oh, Malu, I wanted to ask you something? Do you like my name?” He paused and eyed the black hyena, “Which do you like better, Malu? King or Habimana? Oh never mind, Malu, you don’t know about anything.""
Start a new sentence after "sergeant." Also, I think you should put a period after "her."
Put a period after "vision."
You should put an "and" between the two clauses to link them together.
King's.
Now, I know I corrected a lot of things, but honestly...your only issue is with run-ons. Other than that, your writing is superb. This story has amazing imagery, and I was very intrigued throughout the whole thing.
I see you already took sarg's suggestions to heart. There are still a few areas that could use some polishing, namely the beginning:
I noticed throughout that you're inconsistent with capitalizing "God". Either capitalize or don't, so long as you're consistent. This inconsistency is a bit jarring and jerks your reader out of the narrative as they wonder why it's capitalized here and not there.
The rest of the piece lacks run-ons, so this section here stuck out like a sore thumb. I almost stopped reading here, actually, because we're just at the beginning of the story, and if this is what the beginning looks like, the rest of the story probably looks just as bad (and is as badly punctuated). The only reason I continued reading was for the sake of the review, and I'm glad I finished this piece because it was really good.
The thing is, the beginning is perhaps the most important part of your work as it is the beginning that hooks your readers. Your beginning must be nigh perfect, and right now, it is far from. Fixing it up will give your readers a much better first impression, and they'll be more forgiving of occasionally misplaced/missing commas here and there or sentences that are not perhaps as grammatically correct as they could/should be because by then, you'll have so engrossed them in the story that the aesthetics become secondary.
And you have such an engrossing story here. It would be a shame if more readers were turned away by the roughness of the beginning as I almost was.
Fix up the beginning, and as far as I'm concerned, you'll be golden. You have a great character here in King, and while there might not be a lot of background or details in this story, I think that adding more in would detract from King's story. Then again, not many are familiar with the Rwandan Genocide, so perhaps linking to material on it in an author's note and briefly explaining the situation would be helpful and give those readers more context so that they could better appreciate this piece.
One last, purely aesthetic, thing: the title in the beginning blends right into the rest of the story. You might want to bold it or place an extra blank line between it and the story text or otherwise separate it as I initially read it as "King. King..." and did a double-take as a result.
Heeey, I saw you had another one, so I decided to stop by. And I'm glad I did!
This was a good story. I could definitely see this fleshed out into a longer short story or a novella. Something like The Life of Pi or To Build a Fire. Just pick up some Sahara survival tips, flesh out the political background, and research hyena behavior, and you'll be off to a running start.
So on that note, I would like to see more background. You mention the Tutsis and the Hutus, but don't tell us anything about it. If I hadn't previously seen Hotel Rwanda, I would be totally lost. Give us a little more to wrap our heads around so we know why the wife was taken.
You only capitalize "God" but once. If you were saying "a god" or "the god", then you can leave it uncapitalized. But when you say
it means the-one-and-only God that he knows. Same thing if you call your dad "Dad" and your mom "Mom." It's capitalized because you're referring to the one and only and replacing his/her name with the word. "Hey, Dad, don't you like how I capitalized your proper pronoun?"
You accidentally capitalize other words. Like
and you're also lacking an apostrophe. "King's wife."
I could do without some of the Amens. Some of them work because just prior to it, King had said something heartfelt and something that he wished to be true. Stuff like, "His wife was alive. Amen" and "He would see her soon. Amen." But not
and
because it detracts from the power of it the word. It no longer means something he is grateful for or a fervent believer of...instead it's just a little more meaningful than a period.
Is there a particular reason he says Malu's name so much? It gets a little distracting.
Also, in the beginning, I was a little confused.
This line made me wonder if they were both hyenas. Then King started talking and I got more confused. Then King had a wife and I got more confused. And I was thinking to myself...Lion King maybe...? I think it could be remedied just by saying something like "Malu, the hyena" or "his hyena, Malu" or something. You know, just clearly stating that Malu is the hyena.
Also, the sentence
doesn't work. The "Although" part of it means that the two phrases will be contradictory. Like
"Although I was full, I still ate dinner."
"Although winter had come, it was a balmy 75 degrees out."
See what I mean? So "Although Europe is too far for a hyena, King knew he would say goodbye to Malu" doesn't work.
And why had 20 years passed since he went to look for his wife? A lot of the background is very mysterious...
An unusual comparison. I'm guessing it means they were square? Just a bit unconventional that it sticks out to me.
"too hot" is what you want. Two O's to mean "excessively."
Not sure what this sentence means. Also, flames don't really "clutch." Not a proper verb to use.
"his wife's grip." "wives" is plural.
Missing apostrophes. "King's" and "Malu's." You're missing apostrophes at various parts in the story. Look around for possession and add them apostrophes.
Missing period and comma.
"I could have sworn you said something, Malu." King moved his body.
You only use the comma to end a quotation if you're going to say "he said."
So for instance,
"I could have sworn you said something, Malu," King said, moving his body...
I enjoy that word choice.
I think the story could benefit from a description of what being hungry felt like...or what being dehydrated felt like. When men are hungry, they can do terrible things to satisfy this hunger, and go so far as to eat other men...or maybe even their own fingers. Anyway, read To Build a Fire by Jack London, and you'll see how reading about the actions of that main character could directly translate to the actions of King here. (Read: when men are desperate, they will seek solutions.)
Anyway, this has some real potential. Edit it. Research it. Build on it. It will be grand.
King stopped, wide eyed. He pivoted and faced Malu. Malu’s stare was empty and dark. They locked eyes, Kings beady black pupils on Malus.
“What did you say Malu?”
Malu stood, watching King with a dumb stare. His tail stopped.
“I could have sworn you said something Malu,” King moved his body forward but his eyes stayed fixed sideways on Malu.
King’s feet were no longer wood blocks but concrete slabs. His chest sucked hot air and heaved out dry breath in throes. Scribbles moved in his vision, everywhere he looked he found the same scribbles, and his knees no longer bent. He looked down at the dark stilts, which quaked, or maybe his eyes quaked. He curled his back and rested his tarantula hands on his bony knees. His cadaverous gut tightened, his ribs protruded and wrapped his lungs like fingers in leather gloves.
Malu watched, tail still, tongue hanging and his breath rose in sharp heaves.
Finally, Kings knees bent and hit the earth hard. His spine hooked and his fingers spread in the red sand. Looking to the swirling horizon, he couldn’t see Europe yet, but he could see a dark figure rising, running closer. In her arms was a wrapped baby, its black lips clutched to her brail bosom. It is my favorite part of this story I just love it but there is some mistakes in the punctuation. But I still love it