Beginning of a short story. No idea where to go with it though - help? - Writers Forum

thedreamweaver · 07-11-2007, 05:11 PM

The baby’s feet were sticking out of the pram. It was an old-fashioned pram, one of those Edwardian style ones that you always see nurses pushing in Kate Greenaway illustrations. It was dark blue with white polka dots and a big hood concealing the baby’s face. Only the feet stuck out, pink and curling. I looked at the image, the picture of this nice looking woman pushing this Edwardian pram with these cute feet protruding from it. I smiled, but then let it fade and made no effort to rekindle it. Turning away briskly, I continued up the hill. It was an unnecessarily steep hill, unevenly paved and with council houses on either side. I didn’t like the road, mainly because I had to totter down it with a child’s small cautious steps every morning, and slog sweatily up it that evening.

I sneezed and then sniffed, angry at the hay fever I couldn’t banish and refused to medicate. I was always the person to refuse any remedies: for things like hay fever and the common cold, I was steadfast in my view that they helped not a jot and that you just had to battle through. I wasn’t ill often – hardly ever, actually – so it was easy for me to ‘battle through’. It was a muggy evening in July, but cloudy still and as I trudged through the uphill pathway to my home, a faint tepid drizzle began to shower the world. I could see it shrouding all the shrubs and bushes, soaking into the mud beneath my feet. I thought of the baby in the pram, and wondered whether its mother had a plastic cover: for some reason the idea of those vulnerable little feet getting wet disturbed me.

Fossy · 07-11-2007, 05:40 PM

I'll have to think where you could go with this - actually the possibilities are endless, but as it's only 7.30am I can't seem to grab one of them out of sky into some sort of coherent thought. (Glad I'm not doing this for an exam!)

Those vulnerable little feet? wow that was a deep line for someone who is only 16. I hope I don't sound patronising, but I've known a lot of 16 year olds who don't have an ounce of your ability to write or even the ability to articulate something like that.

Perhaps when I've had a few more cups of coffee and the temperature here has warmed up above 1 degree my brain might come up with something.

Voodoo · 07-11-2007, 06:31 PM

PLEASE don't deviate with that awful font. I have bad eyes from all this stuff...

few too many "its"

final line is very good.

as for ideas, this seems more like an exercise than an attempt at a story.

The baby’s feet were sticking out of the pram. It was an old-fashioned pram, one of those Edwardian style ones that you always see nurses pushing in Kate Greenaway illustrations. It was dark blue with white polka dots and a big hood concealing the baby’s face. Only the feet stuck out, pink and curling. I looked at the image, the picture of this nice looking woman pushing this Edwardian pram with these cute feet protruding from it. I smiled, but then let it fade and made no effort to rekindle it. Turning away briskly, I continued up the hill. It was an unnecessarily steep hill, unevenly paved and with council houses on either side. I didn’t like the road, mainly because I had to totter down it with a child’s small cautious steps every morning, and slog sweatily up it that evening.

I sneezed and then sniffed, angry at the hay fever I couldn’t banish and refused to medicate. I was always the person to refuse any remedies: for things like hay fever and the common cold, I was steadfast in my view that they helped not a jot and that you just had to battle through. I wasn’t ill often – hardly ever, actually – so it was easy for me to ‘battle through’. It was a muggy evening in July, but cloudy still and as I trudged through the uphill pathway to my home, a faint tepid drizzle began to shower the world. I could see it shrouding all the shrubs and bushes, soaking into the mud beneath my feet. I thought of the baby in the pram, and wondered whether its mother had a plastic cover: for some reason the idea of those vulnerable little feet getting wet disturbed me.

Fossy · 07-11-2007, 08:37 PM

Well I've warmed up a bit and still haven't come up with anything good. I love it as a short story on its own.

German Voodoo is right, few too many it's and ands, couple of adverbs, other than that a little bit of polish and it's fine.

thedreamweaver · 07-12-2007, 06:30 AM

Thanks

thedreamweaver · 07-12-2007, 06:32 AM

The baby’s feet were sticking out of the pram. It was an old-fashioned pram, one of those Edwardian style ones that you always see nurses pushing in Kate Greenaway illustrations. It was dark blue with white polka dots and a big hood concealing the baby’s face. Only the feet stuck out, pink and curling. I looked at the image, the picture of this nice looking woman pushing this Edwardian pram with these cute feet protruding from it. I smiled, but then let it fade and made no effort to rekindle it. Turning away briskly, I continued up the hill, an unnecessarily steep hill, unevenly paved and with council houses on either side. I didn’t like the road, mainly because I had to totter down it with a child’s small cautious steps every morning, and slog sweatily back up that evening.

I sneezed and then sniffed, angry at the hay fever I couldn’t banish and refused to medicate. I was always the person to refuse any remedies: for things like hay fever and the common cold, I was steadfast in my view that they helped not a jot and that you just had to battle through. I wasn’t ill often – hardly ever, actually – so it was easy for me to ‘battle through’. It was a muggy evening in July, but cloudy still and as I trudged through the uphill pathway to my home, a faint tepid drizzle began to shower the world. I could see the fine mist shrouding all the shrubs and bushes, soaking into the mud beneath my feet. I thought of the baby in the pram, and wondered whether its mother had a plastic cover: for some reason the idea of those vulnerable little feet getting wet disturbed me.
Better? I got rid of a few its?

Voodoo · 07-12-2007, 06:33 AM

yes love, it's positively pompous.

thedreamweaver · 07-12-2007, 06:34 AM

Oh shut up. The word 'old' comes to mind.

thedreamweaver · 07-12-2007, 06:34 AM

And you are 'positively' patronising. Again.

Voodoo · 07-12-2007, 06:35 AM

Compliment- it's positively

insult- where the hell were you born, a goddamn cave?

Learn the difference when you're speaking with me.

thedreamweaver · 07-12-2007, 06:37 AM

What?

Voodoo · 07-12-2007, 06:38 AM

I wouldn't dare of patronizing you with the word- duh.

Voodoo · 07-12-2007, 07:25 AM

Did you just give me negative rep?