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Thread: First serious attempt at writing.

  1. #1
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    First serious attempt at writing.

    My first ever attempt on a short short story:

    Tell me why it's okay or not so okay..


    As I walk through the valley there is only the sound of my footsteps. Itís midday, the sun is high in the sky. He is showering me with his rays, burning my skin. The vile sun, relentless, the only thing I hate. I keep walking. My legs have gone numb, my skin is leather, sweat is dripping from my body. I have lost track of time. I donít know what day it is, what country Iím in or even what continent. Am I even on earth? Havenít seen a living thing these past hours, not so much as a cactus. How to know it has been ďhoursĒ anyway? Driving myself insane. The sound of my steps echoes in the distance. The surroundings are rock. The valley floor is rock as well. Not the smooth kind, but the kind that can cut up your feet if youíre not wearing any shoes. My worn soles are holding, but I can feel that soon they will lose this battle and the shiny bastard up there will laugh at my misery. I wonít give him that pleasure, I canít. Itís not my time, I didnít deserve this and I still have things I need to finish before I go.

    I have always been an atheist, or at best, an agnostic. If there is such a thing as God, He would not let anything like this happen. It isnít fair. The scales are not even as they should be. Have I not been a good person?

    I found myself a girl when I was young, protected her, provided for her and loved her the best I could. She would bare my children. Jacob and Anna. What a duo they were. Nothing alike, just like their mother and me.
    Jacob, the rascal. The boy was nothing but trouble while growing up. Always running around and knocking things over, and constantly picking fights when he was older. He was an awful example for his little sister Anna. She was three years younger than him, yet always much more mature. Gentle and kind, just like her mother. But they were both good kids. Jacob as well, even if he was such a free spirit, he was a good boy. Just like his old dad, he turned out alright. I cared for those two, watched them grow into adults and guided them along the way.

    I hear rocks crumbling. False hope of course. There is nothing there. The wind mustíve blown a small rock down the valley or something. Oh how he must be enjoying the sight of me looking up full of hope, just to find that I am still alone. Heís still laughing at me, at my misery.

    And what about karma? That must be a load of bull as well, looking at my situation.
    Mr. Rogers, that old bastard, probably didnít deserve it. But I saved his life anyway. Living his last years alone, and all the time we lived next to him, he didnít smile once. That is.. Before.
    The only thing he cared about was his silly garden and if anybody even just looked at it the wrong way, he would come running out his front door as fast as he could, waving his stick around. Verbally assaulting my kids because their ball landed near his garden was very common. He didnít deserve it at all now I think of it.

    I was out in front washing the car, when he came trembling down his walkway, probably on his way to the store. He smirked at me, the old bastard, and headed down the street. I turned around to get a towel for myself, and see him just about to cross the street when I hear a roaring engine behind me, getting closer very fast. It was a speeding car, one of those ďpimped out ridesĒ you see on MTV. Mr. Rogers didnít seem to notice, as his hearing wasnít that great. I have no Idea why the car wasnít slowing down, it just didnít. I started running towards Rogers, yelling to him to get off the street, but he wasnít turning around. I got to him just in time and pulled him away. It barely missed us. Even after that the car wasnít slowing down, and was gone in the distance in seconds.

    After that Mr. Rogers wasnít as verbally aggressive as before, and even smiled now and then. He died a month after that incident. He went with a smile on his face. If there is such a thing as karma, that would have tipped the scale in my favour, yet Iím stuck here in the middle of nowhere. Itís not right.

    The sun is getting lower and nearing edge of the valley. I estimate that I have about 3 more hours until the sun sets, and Iíll be glad when he does.
    Finally, I see an end to the valley, my heart jumps and I increase my pace. But fate just had to pull another prank on me and just then my right sole is ripped through by a sharp rock. I fall down in pain. Pulling myself up on a small boulder a meter away I notice something to the left of me on the other side of the valley. Still in pain, I donít immediately realize what I am looking at.

    Itís a structure. A stone structure build into the rock. Iím in awe. I would have missed it if I had kept going. I forgot about my pain and start stumbling towards it. It looks like an old temple.
    I stop at the entrance, turn around and show my middle finger to him. I have won.

    Inside, through the dark and cool of the rock I hear running water! Goddamned water!
    As fast as I can, I move toward the sound. After a long and empty hallway I find a circular room with a small hole in the ceiling where a beam of light is coming through, lighting up the area around it. A stream of clear water running through the middle of the room is visible. Itís running right through the middle, in a straight line. As interesting as this may be, I have no time for detail. I plunge myself into the stream. I drink as much as I can, clean my body of dirt, hydrate my skin and relax my soul. I got what I believe I deserved. Not a humble statement, I thought in between my streaks of joy. But I cannot miss my sonís wedding. I have to be there. I have to be there when my grandchildren are born. I have to see them grow up. I want my grandchildren to lay me down in my grave.

    The sound of the splashing water wakes me from my thoughts. I realize the sun is soon going to set, as the beam of light from the ceiling is coming in from a very low angle. I mustíve been in here for an hour at least, since it was much higher when I came in earlier.
    I think itís best for me to go now, my wound is clean, my energy recharged, and I now know that I am almost out of the valley.

    I follow the valley to the end. And Iím greeted by an open sky. The sun is setting in the distance. And I can see light and vegetation. I guess God, or karma, was joking around. Huh.
    Halfway to the lights, I encounter a group of tourists.

    ďThere you are Mr. Rogers! Weíve been looking for you all day!Ē


    (The end is a bit rushed, I know.)

    opinion? should i just give up forever?

  2. #2
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    I think the writing style is good, you describe vividly and the text flows. The flashbacks and insertions are well-placed and make it interesting. I like how the extreme circumstances cause the character to reflect on his life.

    I didn't really like the ending, but maybe that's just me. I don't really see the point, does he now believe in karma? Either way, you definititely shouldn't stop writing, it is a good first attempt. I think, for further writing, you should focus on the theme you pick more, condense it.

    Oh one more thing, I found it a bit irritating that he refers to the sun as 'he', but the longer the story went on the more I thought it gives it a special touch, this unusual personification.

  3. #3
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    Thanks for the feedback!

    I'll keep the things you said in mind.
    Yeah I didn't like the ending myself either :S

    But I'm already working on another story, I'll try
    and focus the theme more.

    Thank you.

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