Chilly
11-10-2009, 08:42 PM
This is my story I posted in last month's competition. Please comment viciously on why you did or didn't vote on it, and what how it can improve. I personally didn't expect it to win because of its weak plot-line and deus ex machina (and I want to know if you consider it a deus ex machina).
Thanks.
The World and the Bicyclist
The bike dove forwards in excited ecstasy. Like a swan, it was humble and quiet; it made no noise as it left. In place of a conceited roar that other vehicles make, all that was heard was the gentle crunch of wheels on the forest floor. It gained speed; the peddling increased. Soon, the bike was at a brisk tempo, a perfect velocity. It ran smoothly. The rider felt these pulses, and was just as spirited.
As a team, they manoeuvred from the comfortable position under a tall pine to a neglected path made of soil, twigs, pebbles and pinecones. By following this path, they avoided trees and obstructive roots, making sure the bike didn’t trip yet maintaining the same speed. Soon, they came to an opening. They crossed between two large firs and entered the sunlight.
The forest floor had turned to a gravel path. This trail was not well kept, weeds and bushes grew at the sides trying their best to reclaim lost territory; the road was very bumpy. As she, the rider, road past, she saw rocks that jutted upwards and branches that stuck their necks out, but she wasn`t worried, because she was a master at bicycling these roads. She was able to glide over these things without a moment of thought.
After only minutes, the woodlands abruptly ended; the gravel road led her into a new world. Here it was uncomfortable for her; she felt that this strange place was too far from home.
The trees were all behind her, and instead, she was surrounded by giant plots of pasturage. These fields, in which she continued to bike, were used as horse ranches and farms. They stretched outwards, leaving broad, unnatural spaces of cleared land. In many places, patches of forest were still visible but in a dozen years, they would be gone, just like their cousins.
She peddled past grazing animals and looked beyond the cows that stood chewing cud. In the distance, the mountains were visible. They started humbly at the ocean-side and continued eastwards along the horizon until they shrank away. Appearing as a tint of bluish-grey, only bare rocks and snow on the peaks seemed visible from her distance. However, the splendour of mountains was marred by the distant metropolis that became more visible by the hour. This upset her, but she carried on.
While cruising, houses appeared more often. At first they were run-down, one-story ranchers with filthy lawns and a few rusted cars. Then they slowly became more sophisticated. Less dirt covered the walls, more became visible through the windows, the lawns where more properly kept, and from this point on, cement was used instead of dirt for the driveways. The houses became more complicated, some were town-houses, and the styles more repetitive. These small patches of property, originally divided by forest, slowly became clustered together into a unified neighbourhood. The streets were nicely decorated with fake trees and lawn ornaments; the houses looked identical. Many gardens, sports fields and schools for kids, everything a community wanted, dotted the area.
After voyaging some more and crossing a bridge, she peddled into a larger town. Here there were great buildings: tall rectangular ones for the dozens of powerful corporations, many for people to live in, gigantic skyscrapers that ruled over the city and towers as tall as mountains that hurt your neck to look at. Men and women were everywhere; they were like ants, crawling from place to place. Some were in cars, while others walked around, some even ran, but not many. The only green in sight was in parks spaced far apart from each other. Even in the designated areas, where a few oaks could be found, scarce animals lived.
Continuing on her journey, she entered a bizarre city with alien ideas. There were high-tech entertainment systems that enabled people to see nature from their own living rooms and new inventions that stopped even the least dangerous events from happening. There was so much to see and do. One could spend hours staring down from atop the grand skyscrapers. The buildings, numbering in the hundreds-or thousands- were much bigger than any in the last city. They were terrifying structures. There perfection, there straight alignment, everything about them screamed tyranny over those below. People would walk around them shocked, as if they would collapse; the insides were even more horrific. Each one was kept in pristine condition by robots so the people could just sit and relax instead of work. Worst of all, absolutely no colour existed within them.
The few parks that represented hope in before had no cousins in this city. The people had gotten rid of those last bits of foliage and replaced them with more buildings to accommodate more people. To see real nature people had to visit museums.
The girl did not like it. Even the few things she had gotten used to were constantly being replaced. Carriages were added to horses, motors were added to carriages, now hover-mechanics were added to motors.
She saw only one advantage of this, and that was how the new flying vehicles left so much more space on the ground. Some cars were still around, it seemed, but usually there was a trustably low amount of traffic.
She came to an intersection at an average speed, saw a green light and continued without looking. Coming down a perpendicular street, at the same crossroad, was a hulking pick-up truck, the biggest ever seen. The driver, a burly, anxious man, was speeding.
Halfway across the intersection, she glanced towards him and was paralyzed by fear. She didn’t know what to do, couldn’t concentrate, all she did was stare.
They collided. She was smacked 10 metres away, hit the ground and rolled 2 metres more. She felt a strong headache, a concussion, and felt a dozen broken bones. Her right wrist was already swelling and in excruciating pain; her left was bleeding, All over, she had lacerations, bruises, cuts and itches. Her knee, especially, was bleeding profusely all over the asphalt. She tried to breathe, but instead produced a terrible pain in her lung and coughed blood. She was dying and knew it.
The truck received the tiniest scratch on its enormous grills. This didn’t bother the driver, who was worried about being arrested for the accident. With a boisterous grumble, he sped off into the distance.
The girl laid her head down against the wet asphalt and looked around with a blur. “Help”, she mumbled then coughed more blood. No one came to her rescue so she closed her eyes. The world was faced with the decision: she or it, and it chose itself. So it killed her. Some would mourn her, but even those who wouldn’t, would unknowingly suffer without her presence.
Thanks.
The World and the Bicyclist
The bike dove forwards in excited ecstasy. Like a swan, it was humble and quiet; it made no noise as it left. In place of a conceited roar that other vehicles make, all that was heard was the gentle crunch of wheels on the forest floor. It gained speed; the peddling increased. Soon, the bike was at a brisk tempo, a perfect velocity. It ran smoothly. The rider felt these pulses, and was just as spirited.
As a team, they manoeuvred from the comfortable position under a tall pine to a neglected path made of soil, twigs, pebbles and pinecones. By following this path, they avoided trees and obstructive roots, making sure the bike didn’t trip yet maintaining the same speed. Soon, they came to an opening. They crossed between two large firs and entered the sunlight.
The forest floor had turned to a gravel path. This trail was not well kept, weeds and bushes grew at the sides trying their best to reclaim lost territory; the road was very bumpy. As she, the rider, road past, she saw rocks that jutted upwards and branches that stuck their necks out, but she wasn`t worried, because she was a master at bicycling these roads. She was able to glide over these things without a moment of thought.
After only minutes, the woodlands abruptly ended; the gravel road led her into a new world. Here it was uncomfortable for her; she felt that this strange place was too far from home.
The trees were all behind her, and instead, she was surrounded by giant plots of pasturage. These fields, in which she continued to bike, were used as horse ranches and farms. They stretched outwards, leaving broad, unnatural spaces of cleared land. In many places, patches of forest were still visible but in a dozen years, they would be gone, just like their cousins.
She peddled past grazing animals and looked beyond the cows that stood chewing cud. In the distance, the mountains were visible. They started humbly at the ocean-side and continued eastwards along the horizon until they shrank away. Appearing as a tint of bluish-grey, only bare rocks and snow on the peaks seemed visible from her distance. However, the splendour of mountains was marred by the distant metropolis that became more visible by the hour. This upset her, but she carried on.
While cruising, houses appeared more often. At first they were run-down, one-story ranchers with filthy lawns and a few rusted cars. Then they slowly became more sophisticated. Less dirt covered the walls, more became visible through the windows, the lawns where more properly kept, and from this point on, cement was used instead of dirt for the driveways. The houses became more complicated, some were town-houses, and the styles more repetitive. These small patches of property, originally divided by forest, slowly became clustered together into a unified neighbourhood. The streets were nicely decorated with fake trees and lawn ornaments; the houses looked identical. Many gardens, sports fields and schools for kids, everything a community wanted, dotted the area.
After voyaging some more and crossing a bridge, she peddled into a larger town. Here there were great buildings: tall rectangular ones for the dozens of powerful corporations, many for people to live in, gigantic skyscrapers that ruled over the city and towers as tall as mountains that hurt your neck to look at. Men and women were everywhere; they were like ants, crawling from place to place. Some were in cars, while others walked around, some even ran, but not many. The only green in sight was in parks spaced far apart from each other. Even in the designated areas, where a few oaks could be found, scarce animals lived.
Continuing on her journey, she entered a bizarre city with alien ideas. There were high-tech entertainment systems that enabled people to see nature from their own living rooms and new inventions that stopped even the least dangerous events from happening. There was so much to see and do. One could spend hours staring down from atop the grand skyscrapers. The buildings, numbering in the hundreds-or thousands- were much bigger than any in the last city. They were terrifying structures. There perfection, there straight alignment, everything about them screamed tyranny over those below. People would walk around them shocked, as if they would collapse; the insides were even more horrific. Each one was kept in pristine condition by robots so the people could just sit and relax instead of work. Worst of all, absolutely no colour existed within them.
The few parks that represented hope in before had no cousins in this city. The people had gotten rid of those last bits of foliage and replaced them with more buildings to accommodate more people. To see real nature people had to visit museums.
The girl did not like it. Even the few things she had gotten used to were constantly being replaced. Carriages were added to horses, motors were added to carriages, now hover-mechanics were added to motors.
She saw only one advantage of this, and that was how the new flying vehicles left so much more space on the ground. Some cars were still around, it seemed, but usually there was a trustably low amount of traffic.
She came to an intersection at an average speed, saw a green light and continued without looking. Coming down a perpendicular street, at the same crossroad, was a hulking pick-up truck, the biggest ever seen. The driver, a burly, anxious man, was speeding.
Halfway across the intersection, she glanced towards him and was paralyzed by fear. She didn’t know what to do, couldn’t concentrate, all she did was stare.
They collided. She was smacked 10 metres away, hit the ground and rolled 2 metres more. She felt a strong headache, a concussion, and felt a dozen broken bones. Her right wrist was already swelling and in excruciating pain; her left was bleeding, All over, she had lacerations, bruises, cuts and itches. Her knee, especially, was bleeding profusely all over the asphalt. She tried to breathe, but instead produced a terrible pain in her lung and coughed blood. She was dying and knew it.
The truck received the tiniest scratch on its enormous grills. This didn’t bother the driver, who was worried about being arrested for the accident. With a boisterous grumble, he sped off into the distance.
The girl laid her head down against the wet asphalt and looked around with a blur. “Help”, she mumbled then coughed more blood. No one came to her rescue so she closed her eyes. The world was faced with the decision: she or it, and it chose itself. So it killed her. Some would mourn her, but even those who wouldn’t, would unknowingly suffer without her presence.