NikolaiI
10-19-2007, 10:45 AM
This is my first attempt at a short-story writing. Questions and criticisms welcome. :) Sorry the dialogue is not better, I know it's weak.
Oh; the title "Ivan and Varya" was a typo. Varya's the dog! It's supposed to be Ivan and Vera. But then, after reading the story, if anyone has suggestions for a better title I'm open to it. I had a couple other ideas, but I'll wait for your input.
----
On a bright, fresh, April morning, it had just stopped raining at the Timoschenko estate, and the sun was out in glory, warming the forests and hills. Ivan Ilyitch Timoschenko looked up from his writings and picked up his tobacco-pipe, gazing out of the window, smoking it in leisure. He looked out and mused upon his stories, his estate, and his situation in life. He was very lucky; he was born with money and luck, and he had a beautiful wife he'd loved for all of his life.
Ivan and Vera Timoschenko had moved into the state a year and a half ago, after their marriage and honeymoon. They lived with their two dogs Vita and Varya, and enjoyed the serenity of 90 acres of mountain forests, trails and ponds. It was two miles out from Bely. They enjoyed the weather and life in the country; they each pursued their own interests as well as each other. Ivan was a Buddhist and a writer; Vera was a painter and an atheist. They each loved literature, and were both very spiritual.
The beauty and naturalness of their surroundings meant that they were never at a lack for motivation. They each loved to camp and hike in nature. Living with the luxury of having time and not having to worry about money, life was easy. Ivan and Vera were they type of people who will make the most out of their situation, and they squeezed all the pleasure they could out of their lives.
Vera was in the living room reading a book by Milan Kundera and looking comfortable but restless when Ivan came in and asked her if she'd like to go for a walk. The grass was still drying from being wet, but the trails were laid with cedar. The entire environment was green, due to recent rains. The sun glinted through the branches and on the ground, and the signs of a beautiful spring were all around. They day showed promise to be beautiful until evening.
The Timoschenko estate was interspersed with trails, camping and campfire sites. There were hills, ponds, forests and lawns and meadows. Nature was humming around them, and their consciousnesses were put at ease. Ivan and Vera talked, laughed and walked around their estate for hours, and only made their way homeward in the late afternoon. They sat down on their way home on a bench. The dogs sniffed and lay down, Ivan took Vera's hand.
"What a beautiful moment! What a gorgeous day. What a lucky man I am, and how wholly this moment unfolds and completes me!" He said, expressively.
"Yes," Vera replied, "everything is as it should be. It warms my heart to think of it. I love you, and I think you love me, as each we should."
"I would not be happy without you, Vera. There is no one who compares with you."
They talked, and their conversation went on like this, and meandered about other topics. It was serious and light-hearted, and they even sang some more before walking the rest of the way home. They were happy, and felt themselves to be in marital bliss. The sun had finished its daily route, and the clouds had come back in, and by the time they got home it was raining and chilly.
The smooth and beautiful day had made a turn; the weather put a dampening omen on whether the evening would be as great as the day. Furthermore, when they reached their door, they saw it was open, which was strange and ominous.
They went inside and put music and a kettle on, and when they went into the kitchen they found a stranger drawn up in front of the sink, washing his face. He was dressed in criminal's clothes, and he was muscled with tattoos, and an unshaven face. For a moment there was dead silence. No one said a word, and each side was wondering what the other's position or design was. A surreal clarity fell over Ivan, and though he did not know the criminal, he could perceive events unfolding clearly. At first no one moved. Ivan and Vera had been laughing when they came in, and they slowly stopped and reeled back to normal.
"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" Ivan spoke first, and moved himself closer to Vera, hugged her slightly from behind and put himself closer to the criminal.
"I am called Oleg Pavlovitch Serbin, I am a criminal, but I will be honest with you; I am on the run from the law. I've been running for three days now, and I am very hungry."
Ivan Ilyitch was not pleased at all, and was suspicious of evil intent. What were they to do? Ivan was not a violent person, and did not know what to do to get rid of the unwanted guest. Ivan was distrustful, but unfortunately his wife was moved to compassion, and more trusting, suggesting the stranger stay and join them for dinner.
Ivan took two steps forward and addressed Oleg, "It is a pleasure to meet you, sir. I am Ivan Ilyitch Timoschenko, this is my wife, Vera, and this is our estate. We'll share with you dinner and a blanket, but after this you must leave. We will not report you if you leave us in peace. Is this acceptable?"
Oleg smiled, nodded, and shook hands with Ivan. "This is very kind of you, and I accept. As soon as you wish, I'll depart, and never return. I am not a violent man, and I shall not attempt to rob you. I thank you for your hospitality."
After touching the criminal, Ivan was in no way relieved. He now felt certain the man had in mind to try to harm them in some way, before the evening was through. So far no harm had been done except to unnerve him and his house, so he cautiously began to prepare dinner. They ate dinner. Conversation was strained for Ivan, and for most of the time he pressed a cold stare on Oleg. The uninvited criminal indeed seemed to be somewhat sincere in his conversation.
Oleg sat across from Ivan and Vera. Ivan was upset, began feeling ill, which he reasoned would not be a good thing if he needed to fight Oleg. Dinner lasted about 25 minutes. It produced a negative effect on Ivan, further rattling his nerves, and so he found himself mentally getting ready for action or inaction, whatever would be required. Then dinner was over, and Vera and Ivan began cleaning up. But on one trip back to the table, Oleg grabbed Vera in a violent action, and a knife in the other hand, raising it to her throat.
Ivan and Vera cried out at the same time "Please!" and Ivan started to make a move, but a pain shot through his body, crippling him. The criminal Oleg grunted, "money," at the same time Vita and Varya went off, barking and howling. Time slowed for Ivan. He tried to call the dogs to sit and wait, but they didn't understand, and lunged at the intruder instead. Oleg was startled and stumbled backward, and in so doing he accidentally slit the throat of Vera.
Ivan cried and fell forward as Vera did, and in his breast felt the same blow to his life-force she felt, as if it had been his throat slit. Vera's eyes searched Ivan's as her hands came up to her neck and mouth, blood rising to froth over her lips. Her mind began to cloud with confusion and pain.
As Vera's soul left her body, Ivan's own soul left and joined her in the air between them. Ivan's had simply left his body, since it knew its place to be with her, even though Ivan still breathed. The living Ivan, however, was unaware of this; thought Vera was dead and her soul was somehow with him. Because of this Ivan Ilyitch, who had always been a peaceful and compassionate man, found he forgave Oleg immediately. In fact he had taken the first step to losing his mind, but he thought he forgave Oleg.
Ivan called the dogs to stop, and helped pull them off the man who'd just murdered his wife. He rushed to Vera and held her while tears poured out of his eyes. At this moment the universe derailed. Words no longer had any meaning. Colours fell off the walls and slid on the floor; the walls, and everything, fell down upon Ivan. He and Oleg were still there, in the room, but they were no longer people, only empty vessels. Oleg had no words, and was in much the same state as Ivan.
Vera was dead; and Ivan laid her down, still sobbing. He knelt beside her with his head bowed for twenty minutes, silently praying. At last he began to come to his senses, and more than anything he began to feel uncomfortable. He slowly looked up, and quietly said, "What have you done?"
Oleg had dropped the knife and fallen to his seat, and was now sitting mutely. Ivan went on.
"My God, what have you done! I cannot even think. But do not worry, Oleg, calm down, and fear not retribution. As horrible as this is, there will be no more killing. Help me bury my wife, and after that you may spend the night, but then go, and be grateful I've spared you, and leave me to mourn for my wife in peace."
Oleg nodded and they carried Vera's body outside, got shovels, and buried it in the rain. Ivan knelt and prayed for the better part of an hour. He then returned inside, where Oleg had cleaned up the kitchen, and the evidence of Vera's murder.
Over the next two hours, Ivan underwent alternating moods of deep anxiety and restlessness and an emptiness which seemed to be tinged with the darkest, most unpleasant, sickly feeling. He was no longer himself, and he began hallucinating and losing his rational mind. Perhaps because Oleg had only been in his life a few hours, he forgot about him- perhaps, he shut down his short-term memory to dwell in his long-term. He couldn't figure out what had happened. He knew Vera was dead, it was like a horrible dream; but he couldn't remember Oleg, and he began to believe it was he who had killed her, that he'd stabbed her in the chest. Ivan seemed to be fighting with active, sinister forces in the kitchen.
Oleg came in during this maelstrom of mental anguish and activity, at a particularly bad time, and Ivan attacked him. Ivan, by this time, was almost completely insane. He could hardly see at all; he was relying mostly on his mad imagination. In this state he did not perceive Oleg so much as some kind of hard, evil, red daemon of force in his mind's eye. Oleg pulled up short, and with amazing speed Ivan brought a kitchen knife to bear upon the murderer's throat, and then Ivan slit his throat. There is no fanciful detail as to what happened to the soul of Oleg, and the reader can only imagine what hells...
The forces Ivan had been "fighting" were only in his mind, and these daemons remained after Oleg died, causing trouble. As is only natural, with nothing more stimulating his brain, eventually it calmed down, and he began to deal with reality. He finally perceived everything that had happened; he was alone and forever separated, and began to wish he were dead also. Very quickly he decided to end his life. He proceeded to get drunk, and take a large dose of Barbital, and went to sleep and died.
Oh; the title "Ivan and Varya" was a typo. Varya's the dog! It's supposed to be Ivan and Vera. But then, after reading the story, if anyone has suggestions for a better title I'm open to it. I had a couple other ideas, but I'll wait for your input.
----
On a bright, fresh, April morning, it had just stopped raining at the Timoschenko estate, and the sun was out in glory, warming the forests and hills. Ivan Ilyitch Timoschenko looked up from his writings and picked up his tobacco-pipe, gazing out of the window, smoking it in leisure. He looked out and mused upon his stories, his estate, and his situation in life. He was very lucky; he was born with money and luck, and he had a beautiful wife he'd loved for all of his life.
Ivan and Vera Timoschenko had moved into the state a year and a half ago, after their marriage and honeymoon. They lived with their two dogs Vita and Varya, and enjoyed the serenity of 90 acres of mountain forests, trails and ponds. It was two miles out from Bely. They enjoyed the weather and life in the country; they each pursued their own interests as well as each other. Ivan was a Buddhist and a writer; Vera was a painter and an atheist. They each loved literature, and were both very spiritual.
The beauty and naturalness of their surroundings meant that they were never at a lack for motivation. They each loved to camp and hike in nature. Living with the luxury of having time and not having to worry about money, life was easy. Ivan and Vera were they type of people who will make the most out of their situation, and they squeezed all the pleasure they could out of their lives.
Vera was in the living room reading a book by Milan Kundera and looking comfortable but restless when Ivan came in and asked her if she'd like to go for a walk. The grass was still drying from being wet, but the trails were laid with cedar. The entire environment was green, due to recent rains. The sun glinted through the branches and on the ground, and the signs of a beautiful spring were all around. They day showed promise to be beautiful until evening.
The Timoschenko estate was interspersed with trails, camping and campfire sites. There were hills, ponds, forests and lawns and meadows. Nature was humming around them, and their consciousnesses were put at ease. Ivan and Vera talked, laughed and walked around their estate for hours, and only made their way homeward in the late afternoon. They sat down on their way home on a bench. The dogs sniffed and lay down, Ivan took Vera's hand.
"What a beautiful moment! What a gorgeous day. What a lucky man I am, and how wholly this moment unfolds and completes me!" He said, expressively.
"Yes," Vera replied, "everything is as it should be. It warms my heart to think of it. I love you, and I think you love me, as each we should."
"I would not be happy without you, Vera. There is no one who compares with you."
They talked, and their conversation went on like this, and meandered about other topics. It was serious and light-hearted, and they even sang some more before walking the rest of the way home. They were happy, and felt themselves to be in marital bliss. The sun had finished its daily route, and the clouds had come back in, and by the time they got home it was raining and chilly.
The smooth and beautiful day had made a turn; the weather put a dampening omen on whether the evening would be as great as the day. Furthermore, when they reached their door, they saw it was open, which was strange and ominous.
They went inside and put music and a kettle on, and when they went into the kitchen they found a stranger drawn up in front of the sink, washing his face. He was dressed in criminal's clothes, and he was muscled with tattoos, and an unshaven face. For a moment there was dead silence. No one said a word, and each side was wondering what the other's position or design was. A surreal clarity fell over Ivan, and though he did not know the criminal, he could perceive events unfolding clearly. At first no one moved. Ivan and Vera had been laughing when they came in, and they slowly stopped and reeled back to normal.
"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" Ivan spoke first, and moved himself closer to Vera, hugged her slightly from behind and put himself closer to the criminal.
"I am called Oleg Pavlovitch Serbin, I am a criminal, but I will be honest with you; I am on the run from the law. I've been running for three days now, and I am very hungry."
Ivan Ilyitch was not pleased at all, and was suspicious of evil intent. What were they to do? Ivan was not a violent person, and did not know what to do to get rid of the unwanted guest. Ivan was distrustful, but unfortunately his wife was moved to compassion, and more trusting, suggesting the stranger stay and join them for dinner.
Ivan took two steps forward and addressed Oleg, "It is a pleasure to meet you, sir. I am Ivan Ilyitch Timoschenko, this is my wife, Vera, and this is our estate. We'll share with you dinner and a blanket, but after this you must leave. We will not report you if you leave us in peace. Is this acceptable?"
Oleg smiled, nodded, and shook hands with Ivan. "This is very kind of you, and I accept. As soon as you wish, I'll depart, and never return. I am not a violent man, and I shall not attempt to rob you. I thank you for your hospitality."
After touching the criminal, Ivan was in no way relieved. He now felt certain the man had in mind to try to harm them in some way, before the evening was through. So far no harm had been done except to unnerve him and his house, so he cautiously began to prepare dinner. They ate dinner. Conversation was strained for Ivan, and for most of the time he pressed a cold stare on Oleg. The uninvited criminal indeed seemed to be somewhat sincere in his conversation.
Oleg sat across from Ivan and Vera. Ivan was upset, began feeling ill, which he reasoned would not be a good thing if he needed to fight Oleg. Dinner lasted about 25 minutes. It produced a negative effect on Ivan, further rattling his nerves, and so he found himself mentally getting ready for action or inaction, whatever would be required. Then dinner was over, and Vera and Ivan began cleaning up. But on one trip back to the table, Oleg grabbed Vera in a violent action, and a knife in the other hand, raising it to her throat.
Ivan and Vera cried out at the same time "Please!" and Ivan started to make a move, but a pain shot through his body, crippling him. The criminal Oleg grunted, "money," at the same time Vita and Varya went off, barking and howling. Time slowed for Ivan. He tried to call the dogs to sit and wait, but they didn't understand, and lunged at the intruder instead. Oleg was startled and stumbled backward, and in so doing he accidentally slit the throat of Vera.
Ivan cried and fell forward as Vera did, and in his breast felt the same blow to his life-force she felt, as if it had been his throat slit. Vera's eyes searched Ivan's as her hands came up to her neck and mouth, blood rising to froth over her lips. Her mind began to cloud with confusion and pain.
As Vera's soul left her body, Ivan's own soul left and joined her in the air between them. Ivan's had simply left his body, since it knew its place to be with her, even though Ivan still breathed. The living Ivan, however, was unaware of this; thought Vera was dead and her soul was somehow with him. Because of this Ivan Ilyitch, who had always been a peaceful and compassionate man, found he forgave Oleg immediately. In fact he had taken the first step to losing his mind, but he thought he forgave Oleg.
Ivan called the dogs to stop, and helped pull them off the man who'd just murdered his wife. He rushed to Vera and held her while tears poured out of his eyes. At this moment the universe derailed. Words no longer had any meaning. Colours fell off the walls and slid on the floor; the walls, and everything, fell down upon Ivan. He and Oleg were still there, in the room, but they were no longer people, only empty vessels. Oleg had no words, and was in much the same state as Ivan.
Vera was dead; and Ivan laid her down, still sobbing. He knelt beside her with his head bowed for twenty minutes, silently praying. At last he began to come to his senses, and more than anything he began to feel uncomfortable. He slowly looked up, and quietly said, "What have you done?"
Oleg had dropped the knife and fallen to his seat, and was now sitting mutely. Ivan went on.
"My God, what have you done! I cannot even think. But do not worry, Oleg, calm down, and fear not retribution. As horrible as this is, there will be no more killing. Help me bury my wife, and after that you may spend the night, but then go, and be grateful I've spared you, and leave me to mourn for my wife in peace."
Oleg nodded and they carried Vera's body outside, got shovels, and buried it in the rain. Ivan knelt and prayed for the better part of an hour. He then returned inside, where Oleg had cleaned up the kitchen, and the evidence of Vera's murder.
Over the next two hours, Ivan underwent alternating moods of deep anxiety and restlessness and an emptiness which seemed to be tinged with the darkest, most unpleasant, sickly feeling. He was no longer himself, and he began hallucinating and losing his rational mind. Perhaps because Oleg had only been in his life a few hours, he forgot about him- perhaps, he shut down his short-term memory to dwell in his long-term. He couldn't figure out what had happened. He knew Vera was dead, it was like a horrible dream; but he couldn't remember Oleg, and he began to believe it was he who had killed her, that he'd stabbed her in the chest. Ivan seemed to be fighting with active, sinister forces in the kitchen.
Oleg came in during this maelstrom of mental anguish and activity, at a particularly bad time, and Ivan attacked him. Ivan, by this time, was almost completely insane. He could hardly see at all; he was relying mostly on his mad imagination. In this state he did not perceive Oleg so much as some kind of hard, evil, red daemon of force in his mind's eye. Oleg pulled up short, and with amazing speed Ivan brought a kitchen knife to bear upon the murderer's throat, and then Ivan slit his throat. There is no fanciful detail as to what happened to the soul of Oleg, and the reader can only imagine what hells...
The forces Ivan had been "fighting" were only in his mind, and these daemons remained after Oleg died, causing trouble. As is only natural, with nothing more stimulating his brain, eventually it calmed down, and he began to deal with reality. He finally perceived everything that had happened; he was alone and forever separated, and began to wish he were dead also. Very quickly he decided to end his life. He proceeded to get drunk, and take a large dose of Barbital, and went to sleep and died.