Keridwen

Hehe. This came out of my fevered mind last night...I have no idea why I wrote it...admittedly its a little lame, but you know! Please critique it mercilessly!!!
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Mallory stood at the counter, gazing out into the dark expanse of nothingness that was her sleepy little town after the sun went down. At least, that was her take on the place. All the party-ers, alcohol-consumers and druggies would be stretching their limbs and readying themselves for a night of hard partying, or whatever it was they did. For once, the girl thought about her lot, as a dutiful, obedient student, and wondered if she was missing out on something.

Her father's shop was busy on a Sunday evening, but the flow of people died down with the sun, and she could stand idle, pondering the mysteries of life. Which was exactly how she liked to spend her time.
"Evening," a gruff voice barked at her, startling her and jerking her out of her reverie. She automatically reached for the items he presented her. Milk, bread, toilet paper. She scanned the items.

"$8.45 please, sir," she said. She studyed his face as he rummaged around in his many pockets for the correct change. It was marked, scarred by acne, shame of days long past, still remaining to haunt him. His hands were rough, she could tell he was some kind of tradesman. A redneck, from his talk and mannerisms, well used to this rural, country town. He handed her the money and she bade him goodnight, to which he merely waved a hand. She wondered what he was going home too. A wife, maybe a couple of kids. Maybe his dog. There was no way of knowing. But she wanted to. Had a burning desire to know, why where, how. Oh well.

Her next customer was a young woman and her child of about 2 or 3 years. They had many items, so Mallory had plenty of time to study the woman. Her eyes were incredibly sad, and she exuded moroseness. She regarded her child with love, but the terrible misery still remained.

She was refined, and moved with grace and dignity. Her hands were long and white, putting Mallory in mind of a princess. She was sorely tempted to ask how, how she had ended up in this flop of a town, shopping and carting around a child, when she should have been surrounded by beauty and love, doing something worthwhile with her life. She smiled sadly at Mallory, using her eyes, and swept out of the store, before she had a chance to ask. "She could have been anything," she said, simply. "Anything she wanted."

Her next customer had to snap her fingers in front of Mallory's eyes before she was served. For the second time that night, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Evening, ma'am," she said. "Sorry about that."
"Evening dear," the elderly lady replied. "How's life treating you?"
A rush of words came into her head and she wanted to shout out that life was cruel and pointless, that it ran you down with over-activity when you were weak, and ignored you when you were strong, leaving you to flounder and struggle for answers, wanting more, ever more. Instead, she merely replied, "Fine," and commented on the weather.

The old lady scared Mallory. She was buying cat food, bird seed and enough food to last one person a few days. The poor woman lived alone, with only animals for company, motor skills decreasing by the day, forced to live a half-life, feeding of books and TV to supplement not living.

But then again, isn't that what she herself did?

"But that's different," she argued with herself. "I have life to look forward to. This woman has hers behind her."
"Oh no, no you don't," a nasty voice replied. "You have misery, hardship and death to look forward to. You're going to be sorely disappointed. You console yourself with hopes of glamour and well-being. This ain't a fairytale, kid. You think you're waiting to grow up? Ha. You're waiting to die."

As the truth if this hit her, a great weight was pushed down onto her shoulders, forcing her mind to buckle.
"You're right," she conceded. "I'm waiting to die. We all are. Some just have longer to wait."
"Thats the spirit," the voice said, cheerily.
And this old woman had not long left to wait. 10 years, maybe more, maybe less. She wondered if the woman was content, and searched her eyes as the money was exchanged for the goods. She did not find contentedness, but she found something else that was not easily definable, but that she had to concede was peace.
"She's ignorant," the voice hissed. "You'll never have peace. Not now that you know."
"Know?" Mallory argued. "I know nothing. Not difinitively."
The voice chuckled.

A child came up to her counter. Barefoot and dirty, the tousle-haired boy placed a chocolate bar up on the counter, and silently handed over a dollar coin, which was not enough for him to buy the bar. Mallory started to say something, but she watched the child's eyes constantly flicker over to the door.

He couldn't have been more than four or five, she surmised. He was dirty, the sort of dirty that came from days without bathing. He smelled strongly of cigarette smoke, which caused an image to enter her mind with stunning force and clarity.

An overweight mother, laughing raucously as she sucked mercilessly on a cigarette, not knowing, or not caring, that the exhaled smoke went straight into her son's face. Not caring that most nights he went hungry, ot caring that some nights, if he was unlucky, he was beaten, or worse, by the man she had brought home that night. Indifferent, she sucked and puffed away.

Dragging herself back to reality, she saw the child, staring expectantly up at her, and decided she had to do something, never mind how small. Taking the money from the boy, she rummaged around in her pockets, until her* fingers met cold metal. She pulled out a fifty cent piece, put it with the dollar and dropped it into the till with the boy's dollar, and then handed him his chocolate. He grinned, and the smile lit up his whole face. He started to walk out of the shop.

A woman threw open the door, setting off the annoying bell that signalled to the shop-keeper that someone had entered. She looked around wildly, until she spotted the boy, and grabbed him.

"What do you think you're doing?" she growled in a husky voice, characteristic of a smoker. The boy, her son, didn't answer, and his hold on the chocolate tightened. She tore it out of his hands and threw it on the floor, shooting Mallory a contemptuous look, before dragging the boy out behind her. Mallory's gaze hardened and she darted forward, retrieving the bar, running after the pair. She looked around, and spotted the boy sitting in the back seat of a car, a hard look on his face as he watched his mother waddle over toa man and resume her conversation. Mallory was chilled by the look and prayed no one ever looked at her in that way. She studyed the mother, automatically, as was her way. She was overweight, looked older than she probably was, and had cracked hands and feet, which were not shod.

Mallory tore her eyes from the unseemly sight, and went over to the boy, handing him the bar through the window.
"You dropped this," she said quietly, winking. The boy took the bar and tucked it up his sleeve, staring at Mallory in wonder. His smile was thanks enough, and she backed away as the mother returned, gave her a dark look, and screeched away. Mallory watched them go.

"There," she said, triumphantly to the voice. "That's what we're here for. If you can improve one person's life, even minutely, you've done your job. We're not waiting to die," she concluded, numbly. "We're waiting for others to."

This, Mallory carried with her her entire life. The plain discovery that warmed the hearts of two people for a long time after the event, the discovery that set a worrying young heart to rest, the discovery that would fuel her choices for years to come. Life is made of choices and memories, she thought to herself as she shut up shop for the night. And if we have made the right choices, we'll have the right memories to take with us to the grave, and perhaps beyond. Her death had suddenly gone from being an extremely short length away, to being hidden in the shadows, for her to examine at her leisure. And the voice had abandoned her. She found peace.

*edit.

seraphserpent

I didn't think this was lame at all. I rather quite liked it. I can relate very well to Mallory but I won't go into detail on it. I'm trying to find something constructive to say, but all I can think about is your descriptions. I could imagine being right there and in my opinion, that means you've done your job properly.

There is one tiny spelling error. In the sixth last paragraph, when she's searching her pockets for extra money, you wrote ehr. I'm sure you would have caught that sooner or later, but I thought I'd mention it anyway.

Keridwen

Hey, thanks! I edited that mistake...

I'm glad you can relate to Mallory. I think!! lol. The voices were a little weird but I put them in to establish conflict within her self.

Just for a note, she was supposed to be about 15/16/17, did that come through?

seraphserpent

oh yeah, her age was definatly obvious, at least it was to me. I personally loved the voices. It makes her all that more real to me (I talk to myself in much the same manner that the voices were talking to her)

Keridwen

Ah ok I'm glad about the age!! I wasn't sure if I should put some reference to it in...like a definite 'she was 16' kind of thing...but it doesn't matter...

Haha yeah me too! Maybe its normal...or maybe its just us?? lol.

Anyway I'm glad she was real!!!!!

gohn67

Hey Keridwen,
I liked this. Not lame to me either.

Though I wasn't too sure of her age. It kind of felt like she had been working there forever. My guess was she was like 23-26 and still working for her father and that was the reason she was feeling the way she felt.

Yea, I agree the voices were kind of strange, but it worked out okay to me.

I think that you should scrap the whole last paragraph. It's too much of a recap of what she learned, etc. I already got the point through your story. No need to explain yourself.

I think you could have a better reason why she all of a sudden thinks this. Becuase if working in the shop is always like this. Then how come today?

I guess it could be triggered the second customer who comes in. The dignified lady. It sort of works. Maybe seeing her makes her doubt herself. What is she to become? Can she end up with a life as good? Is she wasting her time working here ect. You need a reason basically? Why today does she start thinking this?

You could also add a new customer. Like a group of people from her school come with their father to buy beer or something.

I don't know there are alot of ways.

I liked how you used the other customers. Very effective. And it worked to me.

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Tunkpirate

Ok...I hate to be the first person in the post to be critical...but I think it shall be my destiny. I liked the idea, I liked the pragmatic, well perhaps more cynical, thought of "just waiting to die". I liked it all, until the ending "epiphany". To me, it just took the wind out of the sails. I was enjoying the piece because it was philosophical, but it turned into an after school special. I swear, Im not trying to be mean but I to me it did end up a little corny.

It had good voice, good characters, but perhaps needed some work in the plot flow category.

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"Any road followed precisely to its end leads precisely nowhere. Climb the mountain just a little bit to test that it's a mountain. From the top of the mountain, you cannot see the mountain."

FollowingShadow

I liked this piece, Keridwen, but I almost didn't. I almost moved on, and I'll tell you why:

GAH!! That to me screams 'rookie'. It immediately debunks any and all points you may or may not get to in the following paragraph. It makes the reader doubt the protagonist's opinions because it seems like YOU, the author, are second guessing the protagonist's opinions. DON'T DO THAT!!! Give your protagonist an opinion and DEFEND IT with well written anecdote. Which you did, but this was inhibiting it.

The rest of the things I noted are rather small in comparison:

The rhetoric you used diminished the sinister tone the nasty voice takes. Could you uh... Dumb it down a bit? Not quite sure what to suggest, only that the words you used there followed by the use of the word 'ain't' don't seem to match the nastiness I think you're going for.

Winking doesn't seem to fit. Mallory is still experiencing her epiphany and thus still learning; winking is the knowing sign from one learned to one learning. I suppose that you could defend yourself with, "But she knows more compared to the kid!" but don't compare Mallory to the kid, compare Mallory to the reader, your audience.

Damn, wait, this is rather important:

The ending summary of Mallory's epiphany is necessary to really give the reader a sense of catharsis about what Mallory has learned, but the way you summarized it is awry. The fact that Mallory would carry what she learned her entire life is something better left unsaid. You refer to a plain discovery that warmed the hearts of two people, but the reader is unsure of which plain discovery because you don't specify which two people. Next sentence is fine, after that is good... But the last couple phrases bother me. Who found peace, Mallory or the voice? You could have left it open-ended on purpose, but that's bothersome, deciding which one found peace, Mallory or the voice.

I wouldn't scrap the final paragraph, I'd just give it a fairly major overhaul. But that's just me.

All in all, this was good. Anecdotally sound, the flow was good and even, the characters small and unobstrusive compared to your protagonist, and your POV is also solid. Well done.

I hope you can make ends meet with this piece.

Cheers,
-FS[/quote]

eggo

Hey Keridwen,

I liked the story alot. After working in a retail job like this, people watching becomes the best part of the job.

The only point I will bring up is the final paragraph. I believe in what you have written and it is part of the way I like to live my life. The way you told it, although was beating people over the head with a sledge hammer.

With some people that is, in fact, that is the only entry way into their skull.

In this you and I are cut from the same cloth. We both describe a way of thinking or believing with so much emotion and with a clarity that it turns people off. The message is so clear it hurts.

People like to read between the lines to search for some acrostic meaning hidden deep in the lines. And when the revelation appears, then they can buy into it because by working for it, they feel as though they have created or discovered it.

Your last line was a synopsis of the story you already wrote, you were just leaving a trail of bread crumbs for the dumb.

Thanks for the read, Keep it up.

Keridwen

Thank you guys so so much!!! It gives me such a kick to have people review!! Hehe that sounds...rookie. Well I guess thats what I am!! (I'll defend myself by saying I'm 15 )

Yeah I wasn't sure myself about that last paragraph. So I should keep it...but just 'do it up'??

Hey thats interesting about the age thing, gohn67. And maybe you're right about the last paragraph, but I wasn't sure about leaving it at 'we're waiting for others too' because that could be construed as a negative thing, like we want other people to die. Like Eggo said, it was the 'sledgehammer'.

Thanks TunkPirate!! You're right it is a little corny...I just felt I had to make something 'good' happen. I'm still on the 'conflict/resolution' template!!

FollowingShadow, I used winking to establish that Mallory felt for the kid, and was trying to be all 'nice'. But you're right, it does sound a little out of place.

Haha I should hope I'm screaming rookie, I'm not exactly a professional at this sorta thing!!

Thanks so much eggo that means a lot!!!! Especially the part about being cut from the same cloth...!! LOL. No, seriously, thanks heaps!!!!!! Everyone!! Its so great to get reviews!!! Wow I am a 'rookie'!! lolol.

Danny77

I like the story...especially the way you described the people that came in. Very real.

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Keridwen

Thanks Danny!