I don't go to Ed's funeral.
Libby, Ed's little sister, calls me the day after, but I don't pick up the phone. She leaves a voicemail, then two, then six. I forget to open them. After a few days, Libby and her parents stop trying to reach me. I don't read a single one of their texts.
Five days after the funeral, I wonder if I should have gone after all. Ed might have liked it. Quietly taking a sip of hot tea, I study the bright orange and red patterns that twist around the entire mug. Ed always liked loud things. Those things usually brought on my migraines. I didn't mind it too much, though, now that I think about it.
I contemplate the mug again while finishing the last mouthful of tea. It's gone cold and bitter. Frowning, I set the mug aside, reminding myself to get a new one.
*
My parents knock on my door seven days after the funeral.
Letting the knocks go unanswered, I stand in front of the door, holding a purple mug in one hand. The tea is still too hot to drink.
I study the clouds outside the window. Some look like daisies, which Ed liked. I tilt my head to get a better view and wonder if it'll rain anytime soon. As I get out my phone to check the forecast, I hear my parents' car driving away. After a moment, I crack the door open and see several glass containers of food left on the doormat.
No chance of rain today. I shut the door.
*
I'm balancing several bags of groceries in my arms when I almost trip over a pair of Ed's shoes, which reminds me to throw them out. After struggling into the kitchen and setting the bags down, I pick up the shoes and walk over to the trash can. The shoes--bright red sneakers--still have little pieces of dirt stuck to them. Absently, I brush them off.
The dirt reminds me that Ed never really cleaned up anything. According to him, he tried his best. I also know that he at least made an attempt to keep things clean. It just didn't really work.
He always apologized. I always said to him that I didn't mind, as long as he didn't touch my things.
Still holding the shoes, I try to remember what Ed looked like when he was sad. I have a feeling that he looked that way whenever I told him that I don't mind what he does. The memory lingers just outside of reach.
The shoes suddenly feel heavy in my hands. I gently lower them into the trash can and start putting away the groceries.
*
A month after the funeral, I sell the house.
With the only other occupant gone, there are now too many rooms and too much space. Inefficient, I think to myself as I look up at the house for the last time. What little belongings I have left are stored in the trunk of my car. It's nearly midnight, and my breath is white in the frigid air. I absently rub my hands together. My fingers have gone numb.
Ed liked to put up Christmas lights all around the house months before the actual holiday. I didn't mind them. They reminded me of the stars, which I had always been fond of. I don't think that Ed ever really understood why I walked slower at night--even slower than usual--and carefully studied the stars. He would always complain half-heartedly as he walked next to me.
I wonder what he thought whenever I told him that I didn't mind if he went ahead without me.
Five days until Christmas. Gazing mutely at the house, I think about the Christmas lights that I threw out along with all of Ed's things. The house stares back at me, quiet and dark. After a while, I look away and up into the sky. Cloudy. No chance of stars tonight.
I turn and walk away.
*
The therapist asks if I've come to terms with Ed's death, which puzzles me.
I tell her that Ed really is dead, in case she didn't know. She frowns like she's also confused, so I reassure her that there was even a funeral. As an afterthought, I add that I didn't go to it myself.
The therapist gets a sad look on her face. I consider asking her why, but something tells me that it wouldn't make her any happier. Instead, I look out the window and think about Christmas lights and broken mugs.
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125,023 Literary Works • 672,762 Reviews
Hi Ichoi,
Thanks so much for requesting a review! I apologize that this took me a while to get to, but I'm here now, and I'm super excited to read your story! Let's get started...
First of all, I really like how you started this story! It instantly makes me curious about the narrator and what they are to Ed. I do think it might be good to get more of a hint of who the narrator is: a lover? Friend? I don't know the gender or age or anything else about the narrator and it would be a lot easier to sympathize with them if I could envision them better.
As I read, I went from assuming it was a childhood friend to thinking it's a romantic partner, but I still have no idea what the gender of the narrator is and it makes it harder to imagine their relationship.
That being said, I think you did a really good job of keeping a cohesive theme throughout the entirety of this story. The bright colors vs. not liking them; the focus on the sky; the refusal to acknowledge Ed's death. It was really fascinating to me that the narrator was throwing away everything that belonged to Ed -- typically, people cling to items that remind them of their loved ones, so this was striking that the narrator was trying to get rid of all memories of Ed.
Overall, I think this was a really strong story. I am very fascinated and drawn to the narrator, and found myself desperately wanting to know what they were going to do next and if they'd ever recover from the loss of Ed. I still wish I had more indication of who the narrator is and why they're reacting like they are.
But I think the ending was really strong. It hit me in the feels and was just really nicely done referring back to the therapist and how badly the narrator was doing accepting Ed's death. This was just an excellent story all around and I really enjoyed reading it!
Hope this helped!
~Shady
Hello there! Thank you for requesting a review. I hope this helps.
I think this is an interesting read, for sure. There's an aspect of this that geneartes a rather unattached narrator, as in, we're reading all of the information from someone who really sits apart from the rest of the world/people. I do wish we received a little bit more in terms of description, narration, and characterization. We aren't given a name for the narrator, which can be fine, but we're not given a bit of physical description. In a wider lense, this can certainly serve as a literary device, so as to perhaps allow for a reader to enter the narrator's shoes very easily, but some bit of information would be appreciated.
I think the technique is pretty good, for the most part, in terms of how you addressed each section of this. From first addressing the funeral, for then time to pass in different chunks with bits of world-building/daily life of our lone narrator. It may seem a bit repetitive, or a bit clunky if time is addressed in each bit/section, but I want that idea to be expanded upon, even just a slight bit. I do like this detached feel, with how nothing seems to faze the narrator save for a brief thought about the habits of their deceased roommate.
It's striking to end this story on a therapy session as I would think most readers would attribute the narrator's thoughts/actions/feelings to be requiring some kind of outside help, or indicative about something perhaps being wrong. However, we're faced with a narrator that despite having no requirement for putting on such a cold/string front, especially with their own therapist. This disconnect that we read from the narrator seems to be made/developed/formed from some kind of experience/or simply time outside of this brief glimpse into their life.
Overall, this is super interesting! I think there are some really interesting bits in this, but I definitely want some more background information, if that was something you were thinking about. Even in terms of a novella/full on short-story, there are plenty of opportunities to allow for more description or background to really add into this.
Just random facts such as the ages of these characters, how long the narrator and Ed had known each other/lived together, their feelings towards any other person (could be helpful in establishing a pattern in disconnect from outside world), and like ideas.
Very nicely done! ^^ I hope this is helpful and welcome to YWS.
Hi, Ichoi! I hope you've had a warm welcome to the YWS community
I'd also love to see the end to this! Don't forget that you can write reviews on other people's works to get points so you can post more of your writing.
So, I want to start off by saying that I really liked this piece. The way that you've written it gives it an emotional feeling without ever really putting what would be considered conventional emotion in the writing. (I mean this in a good way!) Everything is super matter of fact, stated exactly how it is, but there are still details sprinkled throughout it that give us snippets of the connection that this narrator may or may not have had with Ed, or at least how he touched their life. It's these details that give life to this relationship of sorts, and I think you did a great job with that.
(For reference, as I was reading, I assumed that the narrator was female because I am female and no other gender was specified. It just occurred to me that this could very well not be the case! If I accidentally say "she" when referring to the narrator instead of "they" that is why.)
Now, I know that this is split into two parts, and I wish that I could see both parts at once because I honestly have no idea what this is supposed to be leading up to. I understand that this is meant to be the snippet of someone's life who is trying to process grief (and might even be handling other issues as well, as they have a therapist) but there are still a lot of lingering questions in my mind. Who is Ed? Is this a former roommate? A significant other, partner, or spouse? How did he die? Does the MC not have any other important people (friends or otherwise) in their life? Does the MC not work? (These could also be the case, but I don't feel like there was enough information given to us in order for us to make these inferences.)
I like the way that this is currently structured as small intersections of their life, which all relate to Ed in some way, but as mentioned before, I want to know more. I think this is a solid, emotional piece, but as a reader, I'm kind of selfish, haha. I want to know, what's in it for me? What am I supposed to get out of reading this? Should I be more understanding of people before I judge them for their lifestyle? Should I try to be more aware of the hardship in my life and help myself more? Should I reach out to others more? The point I'm getting at is I don't know the purpose of this work right now. Maybe this will be more clear in the ending, but sometimes it can help to try to drop hints and steer the reader in the direction you want them to go.
Writing style-wise, I think this was solid. While not overly descriptive and fairly simplistic, I feel like it was intentional because it was consistent throughout the piece. There were specific things that the main character remembered and focused on and that is what was described most, which brought more attention to them. Great job with that.
Let me know if you have any other questions for me or want some clarification on what I wrote
~Wolfe
hiya! i'm penn, and i didn't expect such a familiar feeling.
i've gone through something similar, in how everything is just taken at face value, and how we don't really react, instead living through life a single half-step at a time. This is a good little story about how easily and differently grief can affect someone. In this case, the MC is acting less like a person and more like a machine, meant to follow their programming, with little bits and pieces of self-awareness whenever they encounter something that belongs to someone they lost.
It reminds me of how someone who doesn't normally show their emotions would shut down. They're not the kind of person to cry, they're the kind of person to who does the bare minimum and forgets and remembers and forgets.
ow. i wander into this expecting something dramatic and coming out with feels. good job, it's the little things that make this well written. is it weird that the main feeling that comes out of this is "grey?"
*thumbs up*
I loved it. It was really an emotional story, and I hope that there is a sequel to it. I loved how realistic it was, how people feel when they lose someone close to them. I liked the mild dystopia of it, and how poetic the story was. I loved how detailed it was. One thing, one TINY thing that I noticed is that you used the word "absently" a lot. But that did not have an effect on the overall message of the story and the amount that I liked it. I hope to hear more from you! Merry Christmas!
Yours Sincerely,
Hannah Koetje