Ceresz

I just thought I might share with you this quick little short story which I wrote in about an hour. You are more than welcome to give me your advice, and your suggestions.

Thanks!

My Glass Prison

“You know how they say that in death, everything becomes clear? That once you’re on the brink of demise, you can see everything and everyone that you have wronged in your life?”

As always in my darkest hours I turned to the bottle. Just as my father did before me, and his before him. I guess I always saw it as sort of as a sick, twisted family tradition.

I gazed down upon the glass before me. It was now half-empty. It always was. I checked my pockets for money, to see if I could afford at least another drink. I needed it. Badly.

Damn it, nothing. Just my kind of luck, there I was, in an empty bar, in the middle of the night, my wife had left, with her my children, I had just lost my job, and I couldn’t even get one last stinking drink. I hate this godforsaken place.

I swept the remaining whiskey in an instant and started stumbling toward the door. The air was fresh outside. A gust of wind gently caressed my cheek. As I felt a drop of water gently touch the tip of my nose I swore at the weather, but really I was cursing myself, and how I had let myself down, from day one everything had gone wrong.

I started tumbling down the street, the only light sources being the pale moon and the rusting streetlamps.

Fumbling for my car keys I walked toward the car. I opened the door and hopped in. Not as gracefully as I might have wished but I got in. As the engine roared to life I sighed gently, feeling my eyelids betraying me.

There weren’t many cars out this evening and for that I was grateful. I did not intend on crashing that evening. But life sure is full of surprises, isn’t it?

The car had come out nowhere; I had no chance of avoiding it. Damn it, I must have fallen a sleep behind the wheels. Even if only was for a fraction of a second. There’s no other explanation.

The thing that troubled me the most was, when I was lying there, on my death bed, not the fact that I might not survive, but the fact that the little girl and her mother was okay. Never before had I felt this bad about anything, I mean, I had crashed before but never, and by that I really mean never, like this before.

According to the paramedics I must have steered out of course and rammed the car right up front. I also heard that the woman was fine, but her daughter was bleeding internally. The moment we arrived at the hospital she went into surgery.

I lay awake all night, praying, for the first time in over thirty years that this girl, this small child, whom I didn’t even know, would be okay. I could feel myself drifting further and further away from life by every passing minute, but I stayed awake. Just to find out if the girl was okay. It was then that the news arrived. She was going to be fine. I could now die in peace.

“You know how they say that in death, everything becomes clear? That once you’re on the brink of demise, you can see everything and everyone that you have wronged in your life?

I now know that this true.”

__________________

"...Before God we are all equally wise - and equally foolish..."
-Albert Einstein

ablelaz

Hi Ceresz----I think by-enlarge you writing is rather good, but your story is not well thought out. There are some really bad credibility problems that grow as the story unwinds. The topic of course is very narrow and perhaps a little skewed. It has been my experience that chronic drunks, seldom blame themselves for their problems.

When one, looks at the talent that when into the writing of this piece, it is hard to find very much wrong with it.

Let me just say, the opinions expressed are just mine, not always right, but always honest.

Your piece is first person narrative and therefore is considered dialog in its entirety. I’m told the use of quotation mark is not required, as they are assumed present for the entire piece.

In the second par. you don’t need a comma after the word [me]

In the thread par. you get a little creative; the first three sentences should be joined, because they deal with the same subject matter. I know one can get away with a lot in the name of dialog, but here’s how I would have done it. Example ;---( I checked my pockets for money, to see if I could afford at least another drink--I needed it--badly.)


Not as gracefully as I might have wished but I got in. As the engine roared to life I sighed gently, feeling my eyelids betraying me.

(You need a comma after wished.)

There weren’t many cars out this evening and for that I was grateful. I did not intend on crashing that evening. But life sure is full of surprises, isn’t it?

(Change the period after evening to a comma; change the comma after surprises to an Em-dash.)

The thing that troubled me the most was, when I was lying there, on my death bed, not the fact that I might not survive, but the fact that the little girl and her mother was okay. Never before had I felt this bad about anything, I mean, I had crashed before but never, and by that I really mean never, like this before.

According to the paramedics I must have steered out of course and rammed the car right up front. I also heard that the woman was fine, but her daughter was bleeding internally. The moment we arrived at the hospital she went into surgery.

I lay awake all night, praying, for the first time in over thirty years that this girl, this small child, whom I didn’t even know, would be okay. I could feel myself drifting further and further away from life by every passing minute, but I stayed awake. Just to find out if the girl was okay. It was then that the news arrived. She was going to be fine. I could now die in peace.

“You know how they say that in death, everything becomes clear? That once you’re on the brink of demise, you can see everything and everyone that you have wronged in your life?

(The last four paragraphs introduce some credibility problems. This drunk who had just caused an accident that resulted in serious injury to a young girl, wouldn’t be kept so well informed about her progress. The medical profession passes out patient information, rather guardedly and only to family and close friends.

Well that’s about the way I see it.

Talk to you soon---ablelaz.

Brightside

Hey, here’s some comments – now, I’m no editor, so these are just my personal thoughts on your story, so please feel free to ignore me!!!

I would revise this paragraph – doesn’t run well, and revise the use of commas.
‘Damn it, nothing. Just my kind of luck. There I was, in an empty bar, in the middle of the night - my wife had left with the children, I had just lost my job and I couldn’t even get one last stinking drink. I hate this godforsaken place.’ – maybe how I would have wrote it.
Revise. Your use of ‘swept’ is wrong, unless to add more to the sentence, I think. Swept up the glass... something like that.
Hopped in? Sounds a bit jolly for a drunk in a bad mood! Fell in... or equivalent.

It's good, but would be much better if you add more to it, I think. The continuity needs reviewed, as does your comma use. Other than that, it’s a good idea, but I would give it a good going over. The idea deserves it. I generally re-write several times before posting, or sleep on it – you’d be surprised what a change a day makes on your writing!!

Brightside

__________________
'I'm too old to know everything.'

Who said that? I honestly can't remember...!

Ceresz

Thanks for your comments, both of you, that was exactly what I needed. I will revise this, and try to add more to the story, fix credibility, etc. Thanks once again!


Here you go, a small revision. I will probably go over this a lot before being happy with it, but for now I can't think of anything to add to it. I think I need to review with more of a fresh mind .


“You know how they say that in death, everything becomes clear? That once you’re on the brink of demise, you can see everything and everyone that you have wronged in your life?”

As always in my darkest hours I turned to the bottle. Just as my father did before me and his before him. I guess I always saw it as sort of as a sick, twisted family tradition.

I gazed down upon the glass before me. It was now half-empty. It always was. I checked my pockets for money, to see if I could afford at least another drink - I needed it - badly.

Damn it, nothing. Just my kind of luck. There I was, in an empty bar, in the middle of the night - my wife had left with the children, I had just lost my job and I couldn’t even get one last stinking drink. I hate this godforsaken place.

I poured the remaining whiskey down my throat and started stumbling toward the door. The air was fresh outside. A gust of wind gently caressed my cheek. As I felt a drop of water gently touch the tip of my nose I swore at the weather, but really I was cursing myself, and how I had let myself down, from day one everything had gone wrong.

I started tumbling down the street, the only light sources being the pale moon and the rusting streetlamps.

Fumbling for my car keys I walked toward the car. I opened the door and got in. Not as gracefully as I might have wished, but I got in. As the engine roared to life I sighed gently, feeling my eyelids betraying me.

There weren’t many cars out this evening and for that I was grateful. I did not intend on crashing that evening, but life sure is full of surprises - isn’t it?

The car had come out nowhere; I had no chance of avoiding it. Damn it, I must have fallen a sleep behind the wheels. Even if only was for a fraction of a second. There’s no other explanation.

The thing that troubled me the most , when I was lying there, on my death bed, was not the fact that I might not survive, but the fact that the I might have killed an innocent girl. Never before had I felt this bad about anything, I mean, I had crashed before but never, and by that I really mean never, like this before.

According to the paramedics I must have steered out of course and rammed the car right up front. I also heard that the woman was fine, but her daughter was bleeding internally. The moment we arrived at the hospital she went into surgery.

I lay awake all night, praying, for the first time in over thirty years that this girl, this small child, whom I didn’t even know, would be okay. I could feel myself drifting further and further away from life by every passing minute, but I stayed awake. Just to find out if the girl was okay. Unfortunately I felt myself drifting further and further away from reality. Death was close now - I could feel it.

As I drew my last breath I could feel a tear falling from my eye, gently touching the pillow upon which my head rested. As my life flashed before me I knew it was to late for any form of repentance.

The last thing I heard, before the darkness came closing in, was the sound of children’s laughter, echoing in the vast halls of the hospital. I wasn’t sure if my mind was playing tricks with me or not, but somehow I was comforted by the thought that she might be okay.

I forgive you, I said to myself as I closed my eyes and embraced the light that flooded my mind.

“You know how they say that in death, everything becomes clear? That once you’re on the brink of demise, you can see everything and everyone that you have wronged in your life?

I now know that this true.”

__________________

"...Before God we are all equally wise - and equally foolish..."
-Albert Einstein

Shyox

has been covered I think, but I have a small peice of advice:

Try to avoid using figurative phrases that have been used before, like the engine 'roaring to life' of the wind 'carressing' the cheek.

I enjoyed it, I just thought it was too short to try and place such an epic feel on it. Maybe flesh out things more.

Brightside

It's better - but i agree you need to add more (ok, i know i'm going on a bit - but i still think this story has more to give!!). I would show the crash to the best you can within the bounds of your character falling asleep, and SHOW him waking up - the confusion and pain mixed with the painful memories, then him slowly realising the awful truth...? And i think you still 'jump scenes' still - I imagine my stories like films when i'm shifting from place to place, and ask myself - does it make sense? Does it flow? Is it right for the character? Also, maybe some more show, and less tell? You CAN show us, i see it in your writing - so try not to slip into the tell too much!!!

But, its definately better now! Well done!

__________________
'I'm too old to know everything.'

Who said that? I honestly can't remember...!

Ceresz

Thanks, I will add more to it. It is way too short now as of now.

__________________

"...Before God we are all equally wise - and equally foolish..."
-Albert Einstein

ZeeC_ames

Ceresz,

I really enjoyed this story. It was close and personal for me. No hidden meaning. It was all straight forward. I think a lot of writers get caught up on hiding the meaning and it makes it very hard for a lot of readers to follow. Some say that you have to not tell the reader but allow the reader to feel you. I think in this case you have done both. The revised version was also very good.

__________________
Take baby steps and then maybe after a hundred or two steps you may stand a chance against these giants

WriteStuff

It was good. You have some credibility issues and grammatical errors, but I like the thought and style.

__________________
That's what I think: take it or leave it.

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The Prodigy

First of all, critiquing hasn't always been my strong suit so take this for all its worth.

Strong concept ot the story. It has a narrow focus, which isn't a weak point. A narrow focus enables one to draw more on the theme and emotions of the character.

A dialogue is all about emotion - for the character and reader. Could this be me? Could this be someone I know? How does it connect to my own personal emotions and perspectives? Your story has great potential to do this. Brightside gave some useful suggestions. Develop the story, not just by adding to it, but by increasing the depth, better molding the enviroment at the beginning to fit into the character's perceptions and his innate emotions.

When using words such as 'gentle', 'caress', etc, it is perhaps best not use them repeatedly, because they are common words that are inflexible and, more importantly, impersonal providing no emotional connection. Yet, using these words are great if they are tailored to the story, such as serving as a contrast.

All in all, great story. Enjoyed reading it. And remember, take this for all its worth.

__________________
...the writer must live with hope, work in faith.
- J.B. Priestley