Marty

[Zeniyama]

This is just a weird little story I wrote one night while I was bored.

-------

Marty came in through the gate. He came in, I saw him: He had on a white hat and suit. Whole suit: White. Coat, Shirt, Pants, Shoes; only, his socks were black. Faded black, thrown in the wash once or twice more than they needed to be. But that was the beauty, formed a gradient. Inconsistent, but eased into. And out of. He wore glasses--squarish--and had a cane--bluish-grey, polished, shiny, a bit bulbous.

He unhooks the latch, opens the gate, and shuts the gate (all in one motion). He looks at me through darkish-blue eyes, a hint of irony.

"Need a hand?"

He says it through his white teeth, black lips, cusioned on all sides by dense, white chin-brush. I look down: Nubs, nub, nub: Two of them. Yes, nubs. Wrist, nub; nubs. I look back up and meet his gaze. My mouth, open:

"Yeah."

[hillwalker]

I think I 'get' the joke behind this; in response to his question. Rather like the hippy who asked the blind man if he needed a hand and proceeded to give him a round of applause.

The style is quirky and works quite well on the whole - except for the second sentence which should be forcibly removed if necessary. It repeats what you have already reported in the opening sentence - maybe you meant it to be there but it sounds as if it was an unintentional mistake. Not the best place for one - right at the start of a story.

H

[Zeniyama]

There is something I ought to admit about this story; the "plot" (i.e. the joke) was more or less an excuse to write a story so that I could experiment a bit. The repitition was more or less a part of that experimentation, but I was also trying to do a third-person to first-person shift, in a way.

This isn't my best story (I don't think), but I still had alot of fun writing it.