As rain pelted on uneven pavement I jogged rather awkwardly in pursuit of the doorway. I ducked through our decaying frame and creaked the door shut. Shaking off the dreary evening, I bounded up the stairs in hopeful spirits.
I prayed that I did not wake Hayden, for it was a quarter past eleven and the stairs are quite sensitive. Before entering our bedroom I could tell that he would rest well tonight. The door was ajar; clearly he was too exhausted to bother about it.
I tip-toed almost on pointe inside. Due to the time, I changed rapidly and left my day clothing sprawled on the wood floor. Prior to sliding into bed, I like to observe the room. It sports a curious kind of glow at night.
So there I stood, reminiscing on all of the material items I poured my soul into in this room. I half smiled at the paints exquisitely organized on shelves. I attempted to ignore all of our garments that pleaded to be hung in the closet. All was illuminated by the glow. Our tattered blinds made stripes on the bed that flickered from the weak lightning. They grazed Hayden's lips and collarbone. For a moment, I was jealous of those stripes of light. Then I recalled that I could kiss his lips and let my fingertips dance upon his collarbone whenever I wished.
I knew, however, now would not be the time for that. I wished for that night to linger on forever, to watch him be the epitome of innocence, to observe how his chest rose and fell as his lungs regulated air.
That was when I realized how fragile sleep was. Sleep, I thought, is a glass of water that is set on a counter. When the glass is knocked off the counter, we continue to sleep. It is only when the glass shatters in collision with the floor that we are forced to awaken.
Another flicker of lightning interrupted my thoughts. I glanced at the analog clock. My brain registered that it was half past eleven. I imagined that the glass was tipping.
Climbing into bed, I intertwined my hand with Hayden's. The rain lulled me numb as I took advantage of our fragile sleep.
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140,282 Literary Works • 673,074 Reviews
Hello! This was a really interesting read. Let me start with some nitpicks:
So, this was really good! For the most part, it read very naturally and you use language really well. Your first paragraph, for example, has some really nice imagery: "in pursuit of the doorway," "creaked the door shut," and "shaking off the dreary evening." I also really liked "the rain lulled me numb." Good stuff!
The issue is we don't know what happened - at all. Keeping parts of the plot hidden can be good, but you hid it to such an extent that there's not much going on. The falling glass metaphor is neat, but that's all we know. The character did something, or something happened, so that the glass is falling but hasn't hit the floor yet. And when it does, it's going to affect Hayden, when he wakes up. The character calls him "the epitome of innocence," which makes me think he's going to find out something horrible, something he's been oblivious to. And you say she's in "hopeful spirits," which really confused me.
I don't think you should tell us exactly what happened. I think you should just give us a few more hints, is all. Little flashbacks.
A note on the falling glass: having characters come up with metaphors is kind of risky, if it doesn't fit with their personality. Often, it can take away the "realness" from your characters, making it seem like the author is putting their author-y words into their mouths, destroying the illusion of fiction. It would be better if you could "show" the metaphor instead. Have an actual glass fall. Your character can still worry about Hayden "waking up" and "finding out," but you'll let your readers figure out the metaphor on our own, and then we'll feel clever. We like to feel clever.
Overall, great! Keep working on it!
Thank you very much! That helped a lot. I typed it up quickly and didn't notice a lot of the spelling errors you pointed out.
Hi there! This was really impressive to read and I had to take a minute to let it all sink in.
The most striking part of this piece is definitely the sleep metaphor and the tipping glass. It's the sort of use of words that makes me think, "Why couldn't I have come up with that?" It's brilliant.
You are very articulate and use vivid words. I recommend rereading your work and deleting some unnecessary words; you use "rather" and "quite" frequently. Those words aren't bad, but they don't seem to fit in this very concise piece. You might also eliminate or cut down on sentences like, "That was when I realized how fragile sleep was." Something as simple as, "The fragility of sleep then struck me" would be a simpler way to say the same then. Toy around with your wording until you get it just the way you want.
It would be wonderful if you expanded upon this because it would work so nicely as a chapter or a larger work. There is so much left unsaid about Hayden and the situation surrounding the snapshot we see. Of course, you may like keeping it a mystery.
These are just suggestions and you should feel no obligation to alter your already fantastic work. Cheers!