Ladytron inspired murderous wife - Writers Forum

Charlie_Eleanor · 06-23-2008, 07:28 PM

Been a long, long time...

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After the rain, a cool breeze began to blow from the north, carrying the smell of wet pavement down the freeway to F.M. 2004. Lying on her back porch naked, breathing deeply so the rough pavement scratched her back as she inhaled and exhaled, Rose smelt it before anyone else.

She breathed deeper, inhaling a sense of change. It was coming. The heat rose up to the sky, causing the white clouds to wriggle like steam.

Her clothes were scattered on the lawn. She had come in through the back gate. Her husband didn’t know she was home.

“That was the way, was the way that I found you,” she tried to sing, but her voice broke on every other word, so that all that escaped her lips was, “That-the-was-way-found-you.” One more breath and a rock below her right shoulder blade broke the skin. She envisioned a small pool of blood beneath her.

An imaginary voice asked her if she was ready, and she slowly pulled herself up to feel the cold breeze caress her breasts.

She opened the door and the world slowed down. It usually bothered her when time slowed, but today it felt right. She swung her hips, as she always did when she felt particularly sensual. And, as she always did, wondered if anyone was watching.

Somehow the gun found her hand and it felt lighter than before. She lifted it and opened the bedroom door.

The girl riding her husband looked so happy. She was like an anime character. Her eyes creased in joy, her mouth open in pure happiness, and no hips. She would have to be the first to go.

Something about the way she looked, smiling as she was with a bullet through her forehead, made Rosa remember a clown she had once seen at the circus.

For what seemed like a long while her husband did not notice the girl on top of him was dead. His eyes were shut tight, imagining someone better. “Open your eyes.” Rosa said, and her voice did not break this time.

“What the-“

Rosa’s husband did not look as pretty with the bullet through his head. He looked like pedo-bear playing with a very pretty doll.

Outside the rain was falling. Rosa got in the Miata without her clothes. If she drove fast enough the rain wouldn’t even get in the car.

phurst · 06-26-2008, 12:40 PM

After the rain, a cool breeze began to blow from the north, carrying the smell of(hot) wet pavement down the freeway to F.M. 2004. Lying(lying, lounging, why is she there, free will or forced? It will give a better image) on her back porch naked, breathing deeply so the rough pavement scratched her back as she inhaled and exhaled, Rose smelt it before anyone else.

She breathed deeper,(deeply above deeper now? I'd delete the first one. The cement can still gently scratch her back) inhaling a sense of change. It was coming. The heat rose up to the sky, causing the white clouds to wriggle like steam.

Her clothes were scattered on the lawn. She had come in through the back gate. Her husband didn’t know she was home.

“That was the way, was the way that I found you,” she tried to sing, but her voice broke on every other word, so that all that escaped her lips was, “That-the-was-way-found-you.” (this could be good or bad. If the reader tries to go back to see how the words fit, it could slow the reading. Maybe just stick with "only the c notes were audible)One more breath and a rock below her right shoulder blade broke the skin. She envisioned a small pool of blood beneath her. (I don't buy a small pool. maybe the meshing of blood on skin blood on concrete but the stone is still there and maybe her mind could dismiss, embrace, or cring from the pain)

An imaginary voice asked her if she was ready, and she slowly pulled herself up to feel the cold (It'd be a cool but not a cold)breeze caress her breasts. (wouldn't she just feel it in her nipples? I mean, I'm no woman so I can't be sure but when I get a cold blast, my nipples know but my chest don't)

She opened the door and the world slowed down. It usually bothered her when time slowed, but today it felt right. She swung her hips, as she always did when she felt particularly sensual. And, as she always did, wondered if anyone was watching.

Somehow the gun found her hand and it felt lighter than before. She lifted it and opened the bedroom door.

The girl riding her husband looked so happy. (now we move to personal opinions. If she found them, went back to the porch and laid down, sung a song, and such, well, if I'm the guy, I've probably already finished unless she found them just starting at the beginning, so maybe when she opens the door she could see that they ahd moved on when she first heard them from foreplay to intercourse) She was like an anime character. Her eyes creased in joy, her mouth open in pure happiness, and no hips. She would have to be the first to go. (How is the bedroom situated so that she can see her face or is she riding backwards? And if she can see her eyes the other woman should be able to see her.)
Something about the way she looked, smiling as she was with a bullet through her forehead, made Rosa remember a clown she had once seen at the circus. (Now I am confused. Did you skip the whole shooting bit? The roar of the gun? The ceasing of the movement, at least by the girl, the smell? or is this a flash back or what?)

For what seemed like a long while her husband did not notice the girl on top of him was dead. His eyes were shut tight, imagining someone better. “Open your eyes.” Rosa said, and her voice did not break this time.(Pretty friggin quiet gun and a head shot...well)

“What the-“

Rosa’s husband did not look as pretty with the bullet through his head. He looked like pedo-bear playing with a very pretty doll. (again, I wouldn't skip the action of her squeezing the trigger and such)

Outside the rain was falling.(again) Rosa got in the Miata without her clothes. If she drove fast enough the rain wouldn’t even get in the car(don't even know why that sentence is there.

Good story line and some pretty ggood stuff but you have left alot out and need to fill it in unless you want your readers to write the story.