huitzil

Um. well it's mostly about an inventor and his basement, though not at all affiliated with the contest to be clear. Mostly I'd like to know if it makes sense or needs more explanation.

Jonathan Libby ran down the steps to his basement. He rushed through stacking papers, moving boxes and throwing equipment back into cupboards. They were almost here. The door at the top of the stairs slammed shut and rattled the test tubes in their racks. He swept up the shards of a broken one and listened as his wife’s footsteps faded back into the house. He looked over the plans laid on the workbench. Jonathan ran his hand over the pages and wiped away a stray tear with the other. She didn’t understand, but she would soon.

Mary Libby sat in the kitchen and she knew he would not be coming to breakfast. After quitting his job at the plant he should at least have time for eggs and toast with his wife. She stood up and took a few steps toward the basement, but stopped and decided to eat alone listening to the noises from the bottom of the house. Everyday it was beakers breaking, engines sputtering punctuated with her husband’s garbled expletives.

What did a power plant need with a man like him, Jonathan thought, when he could be saving the world in his own basement? He sat back on the workbench and remembered how it came to him, at work watching the turbines, turn and turn, and then it clicked. He spent the next few weeks in his garage taking apart the engine, then putting it back together. Then it came to him. He didn’t need to work, he would be fantastically rich, if it worked, which it just had to. There was nothing else to do now, except wait. He giggled thinking about the looks on their faces when he would explain to them how it worked. He would lean back coolly against the workbench and pause occasionally to stroke his mustache in the most intellectual manner. After it was introduced to the world his basement would become a museum dedicated to the great inventor himself. Naturally he and Mary would move into a bigger house. Upstairs the doorbell rang. Jonathan restrained himself from running up the stairs and letting them in. He paced back and forth. Why was Mary being so slow? Then finally he took in a deep breath and started up the stairs.

There were two of them, waiting in the living room. They looked out of place on the overstuffed upholstery holding the small glasses of lemonade Mary had given them. One of them, the larger of the two, stood and introduced himself as Mr. Jones a representative from ElectricCorp he motioned to his associate Mr. Johnson. They shook hands as Jonathan began to rock back and forth with growing excitement. He couldn’t stand it anymore and began to explain to them. It would be the perfect source of energy, no oil, not even water, everything completely reusable. He slowed as they looked at each other then back at him. Mary excused herself and watched as the two men followed her husband into the basement. He heard his excited voice, high and cracking on each syllable. Then two explosions, a car backfiring twice. Mr. Jones and Mr. Johnson emerged from the basement. She smiled and asked them if they wanted anymore lemonade. They returned the smile and politely declined.
Mary sat at the kitchen table and drank her lemonade, enjoying, finally, the silence in the basement.

aliceedelweiss

Hey there.

perhaps you should say 'her husband'?

Quote:

He sat back on the workbench and remembered how it came to him, at work watching the turbines, turn and turn, and then it clicked. He spent the next few weeks in his garage taking apart the engine, then putting it back together. Then it came to him.

maybe get rid of the last sentence?

Quote:

One of them, the larger of the two, stood and introduced himself as Mr. Jones (comma) a representative from ElectricCorp(period) he motioned to his associate Mr. Johnson.

The red stuff is needed. I underlined that last part because, why does he do that? It's just so unneeded. It also doesn't fit at the end of that sentence. Maybe If you added something to it, it could be its own sentence.

I understood most of it. I didn't like that we didn't know what he was inventing. I still completely don't I think you should be more clear that he died. You don't use quotations at all you just say "smiled and asked them if they wanted more lemonade" its kind of a weird style. You should use quotations, it would flow better, and make more paragraphs. It needs to flow better.

Also you repeat 'he/she' a lot. try using their names to mix things up.

Alice

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Chris Miller

That was pretty good. The theme of big oil (or whoever) squelching energy saving inventions is a little well worn, but you still managed to pull it off. It seemed to me like you kind of changed tack. You started to make Jonathan into a sort of Saunders-esque fantasizier, a buffoon, but then you imply his invention is solid by having him murdered, and his wife becomes the buffoon. This could be expanded into a longer story. Nice writing, good details and ideas throughout.

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