Writers Forum - WritingForums.com Home Rules FAQ Members Groups Calendar Gallery Search
» Sign Up «

Welcome to Writing Forums, one of the fastest growing writing communties on the web.

You are currently viewing our boards as a guest which gives you limited access to view most discussions, articles and photo galleries. By joining our free community you will be able to talk with other writers, get feedback on your work to improve your writing skills, discuss ideas, share tips & tricks, network and make friends!

Registration is fast, simple and absolutely free so please, join our community today!

If you have any problems with the registration process or your account login, please contact support.
  Search Forums
Lit.Org - Bootcamp for writers. Post your work and other writers review it, it's that easy.

Advanced Search



Go Back   Writers Forum - WritingForums.com > Creativity > Short Stories
Register FAQ Members List Calendar Search Today's Posts Mark Forums Read

Short Stories Short Stories, usually between 500 and 2000 words.

Reply
 
Thread Tools
Old 09-10-2006, 12:30 AM   #1
Scribe
 
Join Date: Nov 2005
Gender: Male
Posts: 84
Hoot08 is on a distinguished road
House on Gray Street

Hi, this is an unfinished work, the ending is almost done I am just tieing up some loose ends. Right now I want to know how the writing is and if it's easy to follow or too choppy.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------


I gently eased my foot on the accelerator, sending us down an empty street, save the old Victorian styled houses that looked more like shacks than actually homes. My eyes couldn't miss the for sale signs posted on each front lawn. Well at least it'll be quiet, I thought. We turned down Gray Street and slowed.

“Which one is it?” I asked, checking both sides of the street for our new home.

“Third on the left, the one with the red door,” Kelly said, pointing to my side.

I quickly cut the wheel and pulled onto the gravel driveway, the pebbles grinding softly beneath my tires. With a sigh I looked at Kelly. I knew she didn't want to be here, it wasn't home, and she was right, it wasn't. Not too long ago we were evicted from our apartment in the city so my agent helped us out by finding an old house to live in while I finished my novel.

“I promise it is only temporary, in a few months my novel will be finished and my check will come, enough to move back into a new apartment in the city,” I said, my fingers running along her cheek.

I put my arms around her and kissed her forehead gently. She gave up a lot for me. A job, her family, and I believe that even her miscarriage was on some parts my fault. The stress of not getting published is what caused the miscarriage. We both knew how hard it would be to have another mouth with only one of us bringing in any income. She said she just got sick and she lost the child, but the bruises on her head and body told me different.

She nodded hesitantly and opened her door. I got out and met her on the other side of the car. The slate pathway that led to the front door was overgrown with weeds and wildflowers. The yard, which looked a lot like the tall grasses of the Sahara, tickled your hands if you walked close enough. We reached the front door, which was the reddest red I had ever seen, and waited a moment.

“Now its already furnished so it won't feel like home, but all you need is me right?” I said, throwing on a cheesy grin that always made her smile.

Her lips began to turn up. Works every time.

I fumbled in my pocket for the key, finally coming to I slotted it in the lock and opened the door. We went through the house together, pointing out the things we liked and disliked. She said the bathroom smelled musky, I said it was just the rats. She laughed for a moment before I pointed out the large gray rodent sitting at the base of the toilet, where at which time she shoved my out of the way and ran from the room.

Slowly we began to settle in, I ordered pizza while she unpacked some of her belongings. I made my way up the rickety stairs and turned left to the study. A worn desk sat in the middle of the room, my loaned out laptop resting on top. A lone oval window sat behind the desk and off to the left was a door which led to attic space. With time to spare before the delivery guy showed up, I began my novel. You know many people have claimed to have writers block, but let me tell you, when you can't even think straight because you have so many different story combinations whizzing in your head and none of them seem to work, where your pushed past the point of speechlessness, that is writers block.

An hour later and the pizza was here and I hadn't typed a single sentence. I met the pizza guy at the door fished a twenty out of my pocket. The pizza was okay, better than the dinner time chatter. I could see the strain on her face, it was a bad idea to move out here. She wanted to stay with her parents, but I wouldn't do it.

We laid side by side in bed, my arm draped across her. I kissed her neck and whispered sweet nothings in her ear. I saw the corners of her mouth begin to turn up. “We will be out of her I promise,” I whispered.

3 A.M. And I'm still not asleep. With all the stressing about money I've turned myself into an insomniac, now I can't even escape financial issues in dreams. Rolling out of bed, my feet hit the cold hard wood floor, the creaking of aged wood echoing in the room. I checked over my shoulder to make sure I hadn't waked her.

I walked aimlessly through the house, my destination being my room, my study. I sat back in my swivel chair, my gaze never leaving the blinking cursor that had no letters behind or in front of it. I looked at the time, 5 A.M. I slammed my fists on the table, sending my laptop clattering to the floor.
My anger swelled. I could hear the thumping of my heart, my vision blurred then it happened, when everything changed. I picked the laptop from the floor and set it spinning to my side, I waited for the imminent crash, it came but later than anticipated. I looked to my left, to the attic door, it was open. I saw a cord laying on the steps. A chill came over me as the cord swayed. Creeping forward, I stole a peek of what lay up the stairs, my eyes following
the cord to my laptop.

Taking a deep breathe I steadied myself then jumped forward, grabbed the laptop, but then something else caught my eye. What looked to be a hand clutched at the cable, but not an adult hand a child's or even an infant's. Hands tensing, I fell backwards and the cord easily came loose with no effort. I slammed the door shut with my foot. I never liked attics. Dawn's early orange glow came through the window, casting shadows along the floor. . I laughed a bit in an attempt to mask my own cowardice to see if the child was there. Just an illusion, if something really was holding that cord it wouldn't have given loose so easily. Tired droopy eyes often fool even the bravest man. I left the room and shut the door. On my way back to the room I decided not to tell Kelly. I mean no use upsetting her.


“David,” came a soft whisper besides me. I opened my eyes to the a hand gently drawing on my back. A smile came to my face. It had been so long since they last had relations. With all the trouble she had been through we hadn't the time for it. I guess maybe its a nice way to christen a house.
I turned over to face her, my eyes closed, lips puckered, awaiting her kiss. Her lips fell upon mine, but something was different. They were cold and wet. I licked my lips and cringed when an irony taste filled my mouth. Shuttering I opened my eyes and in doing so revealed a creature of grotesque looks. A naked woman, her mutilated and bloated spewing forth blood, laid where my wife should have been. She got off the bed and moved towards me, her body moving as if she were a marionette. I turned to the door but found it bolted shut. There was no where to go. I looked around the room. The window my only chance and a slim one at that. Shuffling along the wall I made my way to the window. With my elbow I shattered the glass and peeked my head to see the fall. Not so bad. My hands gripped the window pane as I dangled my self out. Count of three. 1. . . . 2. . . . 3. . . . Fall!

I woke up short of breathe and damp. Dreams like that are the worst, the ones that steal your very sense of reality. Kelly laid next to me now, the bloody corpse no longer staining my white sheets.

I looked to the clock, 12 noon. With a stretch and a yawn I made my way downstairs and fried up some eggs. Making sure that there were leftovers for when Kelly woke, I hurried upstairs to my writing room.

A cold wall hit me as I passed on through door way. I left the door open in an attempt to left some warmer air in. My laptop was in it's right full spot and I began to wonder if maybe that whole episode was just another dream, but when my eyes fell upon the cable lying loose from the electrical outlet I knew it was real. The sunlight calmed my nerves a bit, light always did that. My writer's block had ceased to move, so I sat there for the day, staring at a blank screen.


Life remained uneventful over the next week, very uneventful. Kelly walked the house aimlessly, never so much as offering a good morning or an I love you. She walked around like a zombie, but I had more on my mind than her. My deadline was inching its way closer and I hadn't even written a single freaking word. Then one night my everything changed.
Hoot08 is offline   Reply With Quote
Old 09-10-2006, 01:23 AM   #2
Scribe
 
stupid_dream's Avatar
 
Join Date: Sep 2006
Location: Fantasy Island
Gender: Male
Posts: 60
stupid_dream is on a distinguished road
Wow...this is really interesting! I was at the edge of my seat reading this. I can relate to the main character very well (I get writer's block often...). One minor problem though:

Quote:
An hour later and the pizza was here and I hadn't typed a single sentence.
I think the correct way to write this is:

"An hour later the pizza was here, and I hadn't typed a single sentence."

Great writing, nice and descriptive (Victorian-styled houses).
__________________
In Thirteen Seconds... (short story)

Please comment + critique my works!! I will return the favor. If I comment or critique yours, I would appreciate it if you could return the favor =)
stupid_dream is offline   Reply With Quote
Old 09-12-2006, 11:20 PM   #3
Ink Slinger
 
Join Date: Oct 2004
Posts: 4,826
gohn67 is an unknown quantity at this point
hey Hoot08,

I want to know how it ends.

Strange story so far. Especially with the weird hand that wasn't really a hand, that grabbed his laptop. That was odd. I want to know what that was.

Is the house haunted?

Why exactly does he not want to live with his wife's parents? You never gave a reason.

I like how you establish conflict, as that helped to keep me reading. There are a few I noticed. The main one is his inability to write anything for his novel. That seems to be the cataylst for the other conflicts like moving to this maybe haunted house and his wife's miscarriage. So I think his problems will be solved once he gets writing. How he does that I am unsure, which is a good thing. It keeps me reading.

Writing wise, I noticed a few tense shifts and grammatical errors - ex: writers block should be writer's block. The prose is not too bad. It's readable and engaging due to the plot. It can be strengthened though.
__________________
The Frowning Dog Blog
gohn67 is offline   Reply With Quote
Reply


Currently Active Users Viewing This Thread: 1 (0 members and 1 guests)
 
Thread Tools

Posting Rules
You may not post new threads
You may not post replies
You may not post attachments
You may not edit your posts

vB code is On
Smilies are On
[IMG] code is On
HTML code is Off
Trackbacks are Off
Pingbacks are Off
Refbacks are Off


All times are GMT -5. The time now is 11:07 PM.
Powered by vBulletin, Copyright ©2000-2007, Jelsoft Enterprises Ltd.
LinkBacks Enabled by vBSEO 3.1.0


 
You are NOT Logged In.
User Name:

Password



Newsletter

Subscribe to Majestic
the official newsletter of Writing Forums and lit.org
Email:


Related Links

Link to Us:
Writing Forums - Discussions for Writers