Wallis

Little to say about this. Last thread I posted got about 6 replies, and only two of which were related to what I'd written. If you read this please post, if you haven't read this... don't post. Also, this is about the style of what I've written, for me it was an experiment. Tell me if you think it worked.

I greatly appreciate all and any critique providing it's constructive.

....

The rain's a little colder than usual. Maybe it's the chill of something unearthly, I don't know. But I'm half tempted to throw this book away. I found it and I'd like to write something for someone... but there's no one to write for. Just bones that litter the street....


I wonder sometimes if we should have at least tried to clear those skeletons away.


It's too late now, ten years have passed and the winds have carried them too far and I think maybe that's a kind of rest. It's odd because you can get used to coming across a bone here and there, it has the same sort distance to it as graves do. Do you understand? I find it hard to put to words....


A femur here and there or even a skull on a path, hell, even a small skull... a child's skull, it's all distant and anonymous and there's no relation since it's just a bone.


But those skeletons that lie against desks, against walls, in beds and chairs! They're more than bones and it's just not right how they're left there...


And they're always in the fucking city! It's the sky scrapers... they stop the wind carrying the bones away.


They jut up through the ground, like hagged nails of a massive hand and they cling to the old souls and the plastic city life that just won't rot. Sometimes I want to go in and demolish whats left of the crumbling buildings. I want to burn the tubaware that won't go away, the kettles still boiling, the tellies still playing and beds still unmade...


Maybe I should do that now...?


I am, after all, moving towards the city and afterwards I'll have all the time in the world.


I'd say the city's my destination but once I'm there and have buried Simon I will have no other objective, no other place to go and I find it cruel to think that way. So no... it is not a destination.


It's just a favour for a dear old friend who, ideally, should be walking with me. And I'd feel some raw grief for the boy but I've mourned the billions who died and so his passing away just strikes me as a kind of disappointment.


Not disappointment in him, there's no fire in me for blame, but I feel sad that things happened the way they did.


The feeling struck ever since I found him lying there clasping the small bottle of paracetamol and although I have many questions to ask him as to why he did what he did, I don't put too much thought into it.


Poor bastard... but no, I can't think too deeply into it. I knew for a while he was having a hard time and even through that little breakdown of mine I could sense in him the same despair. He felt the same as I did but just reacted a little differently to passing through our hometown.


Maybe he would have been fine if he wasn't so determined to have one final glance upon Lily, his once upon a time fiance but once in there he must've seen something.


I'll confess, I've fought hard to avoid this line of thought... the questions that one would naturally ask resonate throughout my mind, I'll admit. But I won't fall into the same trap as Simon. I'm more sensitive than him, to this day those skeletons drain my blood and turn me white! But imagine how destroyed and confused I felt at the sight of bodies!


Grins stretched across their faces, looking like they've stopped everyday activities so they might greet us with frozen waves and expressions of glee.


I'm not going to think too deeply into it and I'll label it all as nothing more than peculiar. It's just not worth the stress and I'm lucky to be able to avoid it quite well for I know that what I saw on the streets drove me to my breakdown... but what he saw?


I don't know what he saw and I don't want to know because I wish to avoid his fate.


I don't want to fall into that trap. I'm far happier in my ignorance of what happened and truth is I'm going to such a great deal of effort to bury Simon because once I prop up that one gravestone I will finally be allowed to forget him. His questions and observations still resound loudly in my soul and I must learn to forget them for they drove him to his death and will do the same to me.


And so I go to the city, hoping to forget him. A cross... a grave standing in the middle of nearly a million bones and corpses will signify that he was worth the effort. For they died in mass and we have never known why, but I know why he died. It was the searing pain of solitude! The agony of...


For all his questions he never had an answer! And up until now I never cared because I felt a little bitter, and rightly so. But to see those bodies still smiling, they had happiness in their rotted faces that I have never seen in any living expression, and then when I found him dead with a grin upon his!


Jesus!


I never cared for his questions... I still don't. I don't care that everyone fell down one day, I don't care about what killed them, I don't care about the one in ten thousand statistic, I don't care about the bodies that never decayed....I don't care because all I want to know is why did we get back up?


Everyone fell, but only we got back up. It doesn't feel like we survived...


It feels like we were left behind.

edropus

Pretty good. A nit or two here and there, but nothing serious. A few words like 'tubaware' I'm assuming are just local to your area that jumped out at me. It's nice and internal, bleak, has solid imagery but doesn't bore you with description. I hung a little towards the end as it drifted internally. Nice voice, quick pace, and most importantly you avoid a big trap that's common around here; you don't waste words.

Had little to no trouble getting through it. Good work.

Edit: If this is planned as something serious I'd waste the title; Left Behind is a popular (and terrible) christian series of post-apocalyptic novels.

Wallis

Thanks, nice to know these things. I realised the name thing by the way after picking up a spin off book from the series. I screamed when I saw the name in a bookstore.

Oh well, and yea it's part of a bigger story line. And I agree with what you said about the ending, I had trouble trying to get the pace to trail off into a desperate tone without losing the voice as a whole. I guess it comes from the fact that it's still unfinished.

Thanks for your time, is there anything of yours you want me to critique edropus?

buddy lee

I enjoyed it, though I have a soft spot for "post-apocalyptic" stuff. I also like the pacing and voice... I would definitely read more and hopefully you plan on expanding this piece.

Sen Yama

I like it. It's plesently depressing.

__________________

Writing is the soul dancing before another's eyes.
http://www.writingforums.com/poetry/...-darkness.html Flirting with darkness, a poem

The Backward OX

Wtf?

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Originally Posted by Wildcard
I view with distaste the excretions polluting this site, suffering when I read another by-product of the boredom of one with access to a computer and the internet. As I read I feel I am being defecated on, and cling to an idea that one day I may find solace in the words of one who takes pride in their work.

JHB

Windows Text File?

edropus

My pleasure. Let me know if you need any feedback on a particular subject; I look forward to reading some more.

All I have is this:

http://www.writingforums.com/critiqu...ch-1-sick.html

But it's getting pretty long. Nice of you to offer though.

Wallis

Backward OX and JHB you know exactly what I mean. Just replace the word 'this' with 'what I've written below'.

But thanks any ways for bumping my thread! Thanks for wasting my time, thanks for wasting your time. Congratulations, everyone thinks you're so damned funny now. I mean, who else goes onto a site called writingforums.com, and then goes into a category called "critique/advice" which has the description "works seeking critique, advice or assistance" so that they can post something unrelated to any of those things and seem so damned fucking funny!

If you're writers yourselves you'd understand how fucking hard it is to get decent critique, and how irritating it is to have your thread posted on for just about every reason OTHER than advice and critique. To everyone else who has posted advice, or even just feedback, thank you. I greatly appreciate it.

The Backward OX

Forum Rule #783:

Thick skin must be worn at all times.









If I haven't fucking read it, how CAN I fucking post on it??????????

That's what you said - "if you haven't read this, don't post".

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Originally Posted by Wildcard
I view with distaste the excretions polluting this site, suffering when I read another by-product of the boredom of one with access to a computer and the internet. As I read I feel I am being defecated on, and cling to an idea that one day I may find solace in the words of one who takes pride in their work.

Wallis

Well you've found a fucking way! Or am I just imagining your post, which seemingly had nothing to do with what I've written. Once again, critique and advice!

And I'm pretty sure thick skin refers to the criticism of the WRITING. I was asking that people not post on my thread when it's regarding anything other than what I've written. Which, incidentally, is exactly what you've done.

edropus

I've said it before: WF.com is like a book, and there are a few antagonists. It'd be far less interesting if that weren't the case. The purpose of posts like the above is to get you to do exactly what you did - react and give the poster attention. Your best bet is to ignore it, or, if you're gonna respond at all, do it with a sense of humor. It'll keep you from flame wars that quickly deteriorate into you being called names.

Then again, it'll keep your post bumped. =]

Taxiday

The writing is generally good but the dark subject depresses me so I really wouldn't buy it. At least it got the emotion out of me that you're looking for.